The Dark Empire
by AvengeThem
Summary: When evil rises, good will challenge; Heroes live, heroes die; But in the end, who will be alive? A malicious empire rises northwards, threatening the fall of the lands. Who will come up and stop them, or will they all just die in the end?
1. Prologue: Book I: The Empire Arrives

**Epilogue**

**Southsward**

Like a disease, the empire had rose from a small start and had gone on to conquer the land. Vafír Silvertung, fox warlord of the south, had grown ambitious, and gathered vermin. He was sly, persuasive, and disciplined. He gathered raggedy bands of foxes and rats, then had them trained by himself and the few he found competent enough. Though they were small, they became strong, loyal, skilled, and smart. After years of gathering and training rats, weasels, stoats, ferrets, and foxes, his ambitions widened. He traveled to Drev Malki, fortress of cats, that had ruled the southern vermin. He had made a meeting with their leader, the fierce wildcat Zarvil Deathbringer, and killed the wildcat in a duel when the cat refused to submit to him. He then turned their great castle into a fortress of his empire.

And it went so forth. All vermin of the southlands had gone from weak, undisciplined, stupid, foolhardy, and self-absorbed to strong, powerful, disciplined, smart, sly, and immensely loyal to one.

Vafír Silvertung.

They had farms were the weaker vermin or their broken slaves worked at, feeding the massive army. The empire had expanded to islands, and the far, far south, and had dominated the land. Vafír decided who lived or died, and now his ambitions were set northward.

He called his second in command, Darkblood the rat, to his study at his castle, Cruer Mors, previously called Floret when some foolish squirrels ruled the land.

"What lies to the north?" asked the fox.

Darkblood looked upon his master. Vafír was white, like a bleached bone. His eyes violet, and stared into your soul. He was dressed in a scarlet tunic that, laced with gold, and had no scars except for one, across his chin. No blade but one had ever come close enough. The fox was undersized, but Darkblood knew his mind was sharper and his sword skills mightier than any in the land. But the fox knew better than to kill his subjects. He punished them to the farms until they were stronger and more disciplined. All of his soldiers must be the best of the best. And Darkblood was the best of the best of the best.

"Lord, to the north is the forest of Mossflower, and that traveling gang of foxes say there is an abbey full of peaceable woodlanders, but many vermin have tried to conquer, and all failed. Furthermore, the mountain of Salamandastron is north, and Lord Brawblade Wildstripe is sympathetic with the abbey, and less fond of vermin. His army of hares are fierce fighters, even though we outnumber them. But there is still the fact of those who thought they could defeat them. You know the most famous of them. Cluny the Scourge, Ferrahgo the Assassin, Ruggan Bor, his descendants are with us, actually–"

"I know the names, Darkblood. More than you probably. Slagar, Razzid, Gulo, Vizka, Damug, and more, and I know they failed," Silvertung said. Then grinned slyly, "But you know how I love a challenge."

**The Far North, Castle Mortspear**

Queen Kamataya lazily bit down on a roasted magpie. "Mmm... well, Virrayna, you really outdid yourself this time. I like the lemony taste."

The cook, a portly, blue-dyed weaselmaid, beamed with joy at praise from the wildcat queen. "Thank you, yer majesty. I personally marinated it in lemon juice, I know you like lemons."

Kamataya smiled, revealing her yellowed, grimy teeth, evidence of her love for lemons. Asides from her teeth, she was quite pretty, with sleek red hair, pointed ears, and elegant robe. She finished off the carcass and tossed it aside.

"Yer majesty!" called a blue male ferret that burst through the double doors.

"Fallear! You must knock on the door!"

Ignoring her request, the ferret began talking. "Twoscore of the lower order, still vermin though, have arrived in a ship. They bring word of your brother."

"Oh, Zarvil! I wonder if he got my letter?" Zarvil was the fiercer of the two, though the younger one. He decided to take over the south, knowing that unless his sister died, he would never be a ruler.

"Well, should I bring their leader in?" asked Fallear.

"Yes, yes. Go!"

The ferret nodded, and came back with a tall and muscled dark-furred weasel.

"My name is Captain Grimfur, Queen, Kamataya." The queen nodded happily. "I am from the south. I served under the great wolverine warlord, Griv Beastcrusher."

"Ah, yes. I heard of him!"

"And you heard of the empire?"

Kamataya nodded.

"Griv was forced to submit to his rule. But he plans to take over the empire, and make it stronger. But he needs your help to do that."  
The queen yawned. "And why should I? War is just so..."

"Your Majesty, I did not travel for two seasons to be denied. And, you'll want to side with me."

Kamataya snorted. "Why?"

"Because, your Majesty. Your brother was killed by the emperor, Vafír Silvertung."

Kamataya gaped. The wildcat tried to move her mouth, but no words came. Then her face twisted. Her face became unlike anything Virrayna or Fallear had ever seen on their pompous queen. The face became viciously evil, with cunning behind it. Her light red fur became ominously darker for some reason, and her eyes more wild. She walked across the room to her stain-glass window, and smashed it with her paw. Her mad eyes glared through it and she laughed.

"Do you hear me Vafír Silvertung? You will pay! YOU WILL PAY!"

**Slave compound, near the south path**

One thousand of Vafír's best hordebeasts had been handpicked for this. Rats, stoats, ferrets, weasels, feral cats. They marched through the south path. They passed a great slave compound, the largest of the thirteen, and the residents looked up.

"They're going to war," said an otter called Streampaw.

"Aye," said a hedgehog, then he shivered. He was not like the hedgehogs here, his kind were from the farther south, where there were deserts and savannas. He was shorter, more compact, and his ears larger, his quills shorter and lighter, and his fur was white, not brown. "We'll get some more compounds, I expect."

Streampaw groaned. "Terrible. If only somebody could defeat the army..."

A weasel, one that was against Vafír, named Bluenose, said, "Terrible, the fox is. I only knew one warrior that could ever defeat him in battle. A squirrel, who used to be my friend, called Tharius..."


	2. Chapter I

**Replies:**

**Keva, my name is AvengeThem because I wish to avenge all the poor vermin killed by vicious woodlanders.**

**Thanks for the review! **

**Chapter One**

**Southern Mossflower**

Tharius slammed his paw against the cell door. He was young, just twenty seasons, but you would think he was much older. His eyes were yellow and bloodshot. He had a scruffy beard and limp mustache, and was taller and stronger than most. Like many young fellows, this was just three seasons ago, he snuck away against his parents wishes to test his ideas.

_They aren't so foolhardy_, he thought. _Bluenose was a good egg_.

Tharius was a powerful and young squirrel warrior and camo expert, he took pride at being able to pull off a near-perfect weasel, if nothing else, but he was also a philosopher and smarter than most thick-skulled warriors. He had an idea. For a long time he wondered what was it with the vermin always being so cruel, why the other creatures more willing to do good. He had heard of good creatures before that were vermin, but still...

His mind reeled has he recalled his memories.

_'The vermin camp had a score of villains, with many rats, and a scattering a ferrets, stoats, weasels, and few foxes. They were led by a fox called Yellowfang, who was the greediest, ugliest, and cruelest of the pack. Tharius, in the pose of a weasel named Coldeyes, joined the thugs a week earlier.'_

_'"Yah, give it 'ere," shouted a rat as he tried to pull a bird carcass from a fat weasel.'_

_'"Hah! Yer own mother wouldn't feed yer ugly face," retorted the weasel as he yanked the carcass back and sunk his greenish teeth in it.'_

_'A runtish, white-furred fox was carefully roasting a quail over the fire. He had carefully plucked all the feathers from, for which he had time to do so. He was the best archer of the gang and had made it back to camp quickly, but took care in roasting the bird. He gagged as he saw the portly weasel tearing at the bird.'_

_'Tharius, not being able to stomach it either, walked over to the fox.'_

_'"You're not getting my food," if that's what you want," said the fox without looking at him. He pulled the bird from the fire and set on piece of flat slate, then began cut it with a perfectly maintained knife. He picked the pieces and put them in his mouth, seeming satisfied.'_

_'"What do you think of the group?" asked Tharius, this fox certainly seemed the sanest of the lot.'_

_'The fox looked at him. The violet eyes pierced his soul.'_

_'"I think they're idiots. Something inside us pulls us vermin to kill and plunder. We don't have much thinkers. Though, as a squirrel you don't have it, all of us do."'_

_'Tharius gaped. "How–"'_

_'"Shh," the fox placed a paw over Tharius's mouth. "Not one other knows except for those three," he paused and pointed at very runty weasel with a thin beard, a one-eyed stoat, and completely black and scarred rat. "and we can trust him. We're the thinkers, the few vermin you'll ever meet. I'm Vafír Silvertung, the weasel is Bluenose, the stoat is Deadeye, called that because his left eye's literally dead, and his other eye's a dead shot with the bow, and the rat is Darkblood. I knew what you were and what you were doing the moment you came here, and I think you can help us break the pull. We leave tonight."'_

The memories went to later on. Just over a season from this moment, he and Vafír and Darkblood and Bluenose and Deadeye had become good friends.

_'Vafír's sword was at Tharius's throat. They were beside a river, Darkblood was behind Tharius, his footpaw on the one who had stayed on Tharius's side, Bluenose, and Tharius's sword in his paw. They clearly knew how to fight, but Deadeye was obviously only a thinker, and not much of one at that, and didn't know how to hold a sword. He were nursing their wounds inflicted by themself or Tharius. Bluenose had tried to defend Tharius, but was like deadeye, and had dropped his sword on his foot.'_

_'"You lied to me," said Tharius, through gritted teeth.'_

_'"Not at first, but I realized my greed for power and the dark pull inside was too strong. You can't tame darkness."'_

_'"I tamed Bluenose."'_

_'The fox's smile faltered for a second. "Yes, unfortunate that he must join you on the journey to the Dark Forest. He's quite smart, and had a lot of potential."'_

_'Tharius frowned. He'd been in tough scrapes before, but he didn't know how to get out of this one. He could take a risk, or die.'_

_'He obviously didn't want to die.'_

_'He let himself fall backwards, than dodged to the side with the grace only a squirrel could maintain, and leaped backwards, shoving Darkblood back into the river, and grabbed his sword from the rat's grasp. Darkblood swam swiftly to the otherside, knowing what would happen if he got caught in the river's strong current.'_

_'Bluenose picked his sword off the ground and charged Deadeye, as Silvertung charged Tharius.'_

_'"Foolish!" shouted Vafír, as he stabbed at the squirrel, but the usually cautious fox had misjudged his attack, and went careening into the river, swimming to join Darkblood. Bluenose and Deadeye were still dueling clumsily, so Tharius stabbed the stoat in the back, and pulled the weasel to follow them, as they tried to run, leaving Silvertung glaring malevolently out of his violet eyes.'_

_Eight seasons later, Vafír had personally hunted down Tharius and Bluenose, then put them to slave away, doing the most difficult of labor. After a foolish slave captain told the squirrel to run up the tree to harvest it, Tharius took the opportunity and fled._

Tears filled the young squirrel's eyes. The fox had hunted him and Bluenose down. Bluenose went to be a slave, while Tharius would go to the dungeons. He hadn't seen anybody since. He had a well that he pulled water from, and every week a few scraps of vegetables and roots that vermin disliked were thrown down through a crack in the high ceiling.

The crack was the only hole in the entire cell, aside the barred door. Now he wished he took the class to-

What class? When he had been captured, he'd been tortured by a pair of weasels. He could hardly remember his past, the ordeal was so terrible. He would rather die than be tortured by them again. He even felt bad thinking about it.

A root fell from the ceiling. Tharius tore at it. It was almost as hard as rock, but Tharius's teeth were sharp and his jaw was strong from eating what he had down here. To a normal creature, it would have tasted terrible, as the vermin had soaked it in sludge to prank him. However, it tasted delicious to the starved squirrel.

Tharius grabbed onto the bars and scurried up them. It came natural, as it did to all squirrels, and was his only form of enrichment and exercise in the dungeons. From the top, he peered through his yellow eyes out the bars, when something in him felt oddly familiar. He'd been here before, when he was a child, he felt. He remembered a voice, possibly his mother's saying, "And here were the tunnels of Egbert the Scholar. We keep them a secret, because his descendant, Eric the Scholar, likes it that way. Don't bother the poor mole, he likes his space..."

_Tunnels? _thought Tharius. He squinted down the passage. At the end was a brick, slightly off, he noticed. _If only I could get to it! There would be a tunnel that leads out. If only, if only..._

Tharius jumped down and rattled the bars. "Help! Help! Eric, if that's your name, help me!"

Tharius awoke. He had fallen asleep, his voice tired from yelling. Massaging his throat, his footpaw struck something.

It was a key!

He lifted it, smiling for the first time in two almost two seasons. He felt for the lock and unlocked it, then walked out, relief washing over him. He was glad that Vafír had not posted guards, since the fox wanted to keep the squirrel isolated. Making his way to brick, he pushed at it, and it fell back, giving Tharius enough space to crawl through.

"Hello!" called Tharius. "Anybody home?"

He heard a scuffling behind him. He turned, and saw nobody was there. Perhaps it was Eric, who liked his space.

Shrugging, Tharius walked through the tunnels. There were many turns, so he just did what his gut told him. He felt that Eric was still following him, but he continued.

A few turns later he was awed by a large dug-out room. There were neat shelves filled with thousands of books! He ran his paw across the bindings. There were so much that the room had the same musky smell as the books themselves.

Then he noticed, at the end of the room, there was another tunnel with light going through it. He bolted through it, excitement bursting. He ran through the end of the tunnel, basking in the sunlight, enjoying the squirrels natural place of the forest.

Then his eyes burned.

After being in the dark so long, his eyes inflamed at the light. Dropping to his ground and covering them with a paw, he waited until water stopped pouring from him. He removed his paw and stared at the ground, feeling around. His paw grasped something, so he moved it close. They were a pair of spectacles, shaded in, but they dimmed the light. Tharius put them on, and it was better, if not perfect. He also found a claymore and bow with arrows. He turned to the hole. A spectacled mole was standing there. Eric smiled, then disappeared into his tunnels.

Tharius turned and kissed the ground. He was free!


	3. Chapter II

**Chapter Two**

**'Redwall'**

_Extract from the writings of Old Uggo Wiltud, co-recorder of Redwall Abbey and Mossflower country._

_Once again the sun rises, and I'm not getting any younger. It's been so long since Razzid Wearat attacked the abbey... Now it's just me, my wife, Posy, and old Guggle left. Could you believe it? Once a young glutton, now I'm gatekeeper and recorder with my wife! I'm a grandfather no less! Guggle also has children, the prettiest squirrelmaid, Holly, and a rambunctious little tyke called Ruggle._

_The summer is a bit dry, but not too bad. Skipper and his crew are here, of course. You know, at this moment, most of the abbey is young, strong beasts, and we can get the help of surrounding creatures in Mossflower easily. We don't have that much Old Ones, and we barely have more Dibbuns. Alas, we are in the lack of a badger mother, and a resident hare, though for that Friar Durglo is quite glad._

_Abbess Fern is as kind of ever. What she's done for our gardens is incredible. We have plenty of food and herbs for all._

_Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to return to the story I'm reading. All sorts of stuff you can find in hear!_

Old Uggo and Posy Wiltud were the most ancient creature at Redwall Abbey. Their children were now fathers and mothers, and they still remembered how Razzid Wearat had threatened the abbey. They had seen friends come and go, and had both experienced positions of high privilege, Uggo became abbot and Posy became champion, but both became too old and had retired to manage the Redwall Archives.

Chubbo, their grandson, a portly hedgehog dibbun, was sleeping on the floor. Uggo was reading _Seasons of the Savage_ and Posy reading about how Martin's journey before Mossflower when he lived in the north. (The Tyrant's Fall).

"Alas," remarked Posy, "I wish I was young enough to travel up north and see Marshank."

Uggo chuckled. His wife was always fiercer than him. She wanted to see Marshank, while wanted to visit Noonvale. She wanted to see the waterfall where Gulo's horde fell, he wanted to eat the Guosim's food. "Ye hope to see another adventure?"

"Aye, but the adventure'd come here. I can't travel anymore."

"Well, I ain't hopin' for that. Would mean the abbey's in danger. Though I would like to get a feat that's half as good as slaying Razzid Wearat!"

"Jum helped me."

"Ye were no more than a dibbun. Astonishin', truly! But as it is, I'm hoping he doesn't come back to life. I would like to win that feat, but I'm hoping I don't get the chance."

"Well I'm hoping for an adventure. Just a chance to do another great thing."

"Ye just might, Posy m'dear. I don't hope, but ye just might."

Uggo had no idea how right he was.

oooooooooooooo

The eight dibbuns at the abbey, two squirrels, three otters, two mice and a mole were tramping around the grounds, laughing and playing, as dibbuns do. The ringleader, the squirrel Ruggle, picked up a stick, pretending it was a sword.

"Hoho! I'm de gweat Martin ee Warrior, slayer o' vermints! Charge!"

The dibbuns squealed with laughter and hurried after their leader on their imaginary raid of the strawberry bushes. Waving his stick, Ruggle shouted, "C'mon! Let's git all de st'awbe'y vermints!"

The dibbuns picked up sticks and started stabbing the strawberries with their "weapons", then bit them off the sticks.

Sitting upon the abbey steps was infirmary Sister Chamomile, dozing Cellarhog Corbo, Abbess Fern, and Beekeeper Brother Ruford.

Ruford leaped up when he saw the dibbuns' raid. The thin mouse yelped as he started running. "Hey! Hey! Stop that! No!"

The two otterbabes, Barrakar and Elaca turned around and tripped the beekeeper with their rudder-like tails. Ruford gave a yelp as he stumbled through the air and landed on the ground.

Cellarhog Corbo blinked as he awoke. "Wot's goin' on? Wot's 'appenin'? Ruford, why are ye on the ground?"

Sister Chamomile and Abbess Fern stifled laughter as they walked over to the strawberry patch, followed slowly by Cellarhog Corbo.

Seeing them walking to the patch, Ruggle shrieked. "'Ret'eat! Ret'eat! Take wot st'awberries ye can an' run!"

Sniggering the dibbuns turned the other way and ran, Ruggle waving his stick and shouting, "D.A.B.! D.A.B.! D.A.B!"

Ruford grasped at the ground, trying to find his spectacles. Once he felt them and put them on, he turned to his friends. "Some help you were! They ate almost all the strawberries! What'll we do?"

Sister Chamomile grinned. "They ate almost all the strawberries. They'll regret it later when they feel sick to come to dinner I'll know that something's up."

Ruford and Fern laughed, knowing the fate of the poor dibbuns. Soon they would be physicked, dibbuns' greatest fear.

As they walked through the grounds, Skipper of otters and his crew came up. Skipper was a proud, charismatic creakture. His daughter, Brookstream (known commonly as Brooky) strode behind him, as well as his second-in-command, Tench.

"Hello, Skipper," said the Abbess. "What've you and you're crew been up to, lately?"

Skipper smiled. "Not much. Tench, tell her what you found?"

Tench had been away from the abbey for a week with half a score of otters. Grimly, he said, "Well, we went quite a bit south. We came across a farm, though found it was filled with foxes, so we stayed away from there. It seems Southsward has been overrun by vermin." He sighed. "Floret has been taken. Plenty of slaves, my cousin Streampaw was one. We got out of there, but we're worried. There's some kind of empire, and there's a chance they'll come north..."

**'The South Path'**

Fifty ranks, each with a score of vermin and their captain. feral cats, foxes, stoats, weasels, ferrets, and rats. They marched forward through the forest, obliterating the lower foliage. At the back of the ranks were the generals. Vafír, of course, the violet-eyed fox scheming on how to conquer the north. Darkblood was behind him, wondering what Vafír was scheming. Zäev the pine marten was grinning cruely, knowing that the north would suffer from whatever Vafír planned.

And Griv Beastcrusher, a previous wolverine warlord that lost in a paw-to-paw competition with Vafír (the fox tricked Griv into running into an old oak, which felled the tree, and the oak nearly crushed the wolverine) was bullying the weaker of the horde.

They came across a small farm. Expecting it to be filled with dormice, or some hedgehogs, Vafír had sent a former weasel corsair captain, Bloodpatch, and his former crew to pillage it, and then catch up to the horde later.

It was said all of Silvertung's army were completely loyal. But in such a large horde, each vermin rigorously trained in the mind, there would obviously be a mutinous few. Bloodpatch and his crew were an example.

The corsair weasel was of stocky build, and an expert with weapons, made better by rigorous training. He had a score of crew members, searats mostly, with a scattering of stoats and weasels, a few ferrets, and one fox. They all agreed that Bloodpatch should rule Silvertung's horde, and they should be his generals, but not on much else.

"Yarr! I get the biggest bread loaf!" called a fat stoat called Lumpgutt.

"Ha! Ye don't need any more bread, ye fat hog!" retorted a rat called Dethfur, Bloodpatch's second in command.

"Finders keepers! That's how the sayin' goes!" called a ferret, Foulpaw, as he rushed in the cottage.

There was a yowl as the weasel limped out, bleeding from a long cut across his leg. Behind him a light-furred fox came out, shouting, and holding a rusty cutlass. Behind him was a darker-furred vixen wearing an emerald green dress that matched their eyes, and young, thin fox with similar eyes and a darker green tunic, though his fur was light like his father's.

"You try to pillage again and you'll lose yer paw! Rest assured I won't kill you, though. Me granfather's granfather was a wise beast, when the squirrel killed the Savage, he didn't fight, and lived, unlike the others with him. So he vowed never to kill, an' neither will I!"

Unable to fully understand the fox, but nevertheless understanding his message, Bloodpatch strode up to the fox, and knocked the blade from the hand, and the fox's fur went even lighter. The corsair captain grinned.

"Listen fox. Ye got two minutes to run with yer fam'ly. Then me crew'll steal yer goods an' kill what's left in this house, then burn it an yer farm."

The fox stared defiantly at the weasel, then ran, the vixen and the youth followed him.

Bloodpatch looked at the others. "Alrigh'. Mateys, we eat whatever's 'ere and just tell Silvertung the place was abandoned. Nobody has to know

The crew members hungrily went through the house, devouring everything edible (and a few things that weren't), except for their tracker, a rat named Nightrip.

"Silvertung won't believe that. And it would be better if we–"

"Yarr! Do I care what ye thinks! We eat!" shouted Bloodpatch, lifting him by the scruff of his tunic. The rat nodded hastily, then Bloodpatch threw him at the ground, injuring his paw. He walked forward, opened a cupboard, and pulled out a piece of cheese, which he tore at, spitting everywhere. He picked up a piece of wood and lit it, starting a small fire. "Everybody out!"

All the vermin tore out as the weasel dropped the torch. However, Lumpgutt, who was slow with both legs and mind, was engulfed in flames, as was Nightrip's paw. The rat crawled out, but the crew was already leaving.

**Vermin Horde**

The crew made it back to the horde by running. They told their story to Silvertung, who seemed phlegmatic about it. However, the fox did have a question.

"You're missing three of your crew."

Bloodpatch knew Lumpgutt and Nightrip would be gone, but as he looked around, he noticed Dethfur was missing as well. He thought quickly.

"They be coverin' our tracks. Yeah." Bloodpatch knew something would go wrong, but it was better than nothing.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah."

"Dethfur!" Silvertung called. Behind the white fox the black rat came out, followed by the limping Nightrip. Bloodpatch's jaw dropped.

Silvertung began addressing the whole horde.

"Back in the south, if you misbehaved, I would send you to the farms among the mice and squirrels and whatnot.

But here, sending you to the farms would be pointless. So the punishment has gotten more... severe."

The crew had faces of fear, along with fury at Dethfur.

"Ye'll will face me to single combat, pirate."

Bloodpatch chuckled fearfully. Then he pointed at his crew and tried to say something, but his mouth was dry.

"Not them. This is your fault. Mistreating your crew was another crime your guilty of."

The crew looked confused. Then they got a wink from Dethfur, and their confusion cleared.

"Make a circle around us. Draw your sword, weasel."

The other vermin circled around Vafír and Bloodpatch. Vafír drew his sabre, Bloodpatch drew a cutlass, as Vafír moved in front of the massive Umbro. Trying to make his last act killing his most hated foe, Bloodpatch charged forward, slashing.

"Eeeeaaargghhhhh!" He cried, charging forward. He relished as his cutlass hit flesh. He slashed and slashed as he realized he was striking black fur.

He looked up, fearfully, realizing he had attacked Griv. The massive wolverine growled and lifted Bloodpatch in the air. Their was a snap as Umbro broke the weasel's neck and a thud as the body fell to the floor.

"Ye did that on purpose," whispered Foulpaw, who was behind Vafír.

"That's right. I did."


	4. Chapter III

**Replies:**

**Sebias1: The fox descended from Gulo's horde. Specifically the ancient fox that tried to help Herag and Duge. I know he was probably killed by Captain Fortindom or something, but I'm just saying he ran because his wisdom told him to.**

**Chapter Three**

**'Mossflower'**

The light-furred fox, Erzvin the scholar, the vixen, Zeela, and their son, Mervo, had been running hard for hours. They had passed the vast horde and walked through Mossflower Woods. Soon after they passed the burnt remains of a church with a still-surviving sign (that said Saint Ninian's in faded letters) when they found a redstone abbey at twilight. Zeela had a pack that had some herbs, food, and a few of Erzvin's books, she had been mindful enough to grab the pack on their way out.

The abbey was ominously large at night. Erzvin and his family walked toward the wooden gates, and began knocking, waiting for an answer. After a minute, a youngish otter and a portly, ancient hedgehog with gray fur looked over the wall.

"What do ye want, fox?" called the otter.

"Please me and my family were driven from our farms, we have information. There's a big vermin horde coming, they drove me away. My wife is a herbalist, and I'm a scholar and have plenty of plant knowledge, and I have books you could–" the fox paused, as if realizing something, but the hedgehog interrupted.

"Don't listen, Skip. Foxes allus were liars. I know from experience."

A young mousemaid called Anera walked up. "I'd agree. A scholar AND farmer? It's a little outrageous. But, still, they have a dibbun with them."

Skipper nodded, eyeing then young, thin fox. Before he could say anything, the fox joined again.

"You couldn't be... Redwall Abbey?" Erzvin asked. When the three nodded, he hesitated and said, "My great-great-grandfather served under a mad wolverine that attacked this place, he was the last survivor in the army; he passed his knowledge down to me, it could be useful in your archives."

Uggo suddenly took the fox's side at knowledge of the addition. "Hrrm. This could be nice to _Seasons of the Savage_, and would show something about Vermin culture," the old hedgehog prompted.

Skipper nodded, but was otherwise phlegmatic. After a quick decision, he replied, "Fine, fox. But just a little bit of...funny business...and I'll order Friar Durglo to cook yer tail."

"Thank you!" called Erzvin, as Posy opened the gates. The old hedgehog welcomed them smiling, but distrust was plain in her eyes.

"Let me take you to dinner, " she said, showing the foxes the way to the Great Hall. They were followed by Uggo and Anera, while Skipper closed the gates and fingered his dagger.

"Foxes are trouble," muttered the otter. "No mistake about that."

As always, Redwall food was scrumptious, and always, the table was boisterous. The dibbuns were fighting at one end, the young adults were chatting loudly, and elders were eating quietly at the end. With the foxes addition, only two chairs were empty, that of the resident badger and that of the resident hare, as Redwall had neither. The chairs were packed in tightly, so there wasn't much space for creatures to scoot away from the foxes as they sat down.

The abbess, a middle-aged mouse called Fern (her real name was Lenaya, but she was so fond of the gardens they called her Fern) raised her eyebrows at the foxes. Uggo whispered something in her ear, and her expression softened. Fern was reputed to be fair, and to vermin was no exception. The mouse stood up and announced, "Creatures of Redwall! You may have noticed we have some new visitors here. They are to be treated–"

A yelp interrupted her. Mervo, the young fox made the noise after a vole dibbun squeezed his 'fwuffy tail'. Mervo scampered back to his mother and hid behind her chair, while the vole mother angrily grabbed her child and dragged him from the hall. A silence covered the hall.

And then a pretty squirrel, she was seventeen seasons old, called Holly, snickered.

Anger flared in Zeela's green eyes. She stood up furiously, shouting. "WHAT WAS THAT? DID YOU JUST LAUGH? WHY, JUST BECAUSE WE'RE _FOXES_ DOESN'T MEAN..."

Holly quelled under the vixen's anger, and whimpered. Erzvin realized the relationship with the abbey would go south fast if Zeela didn't stop. He grabbed his wife's paw and tried to pull her down, saying things like, "Just think about how good the food is, relax..." but she shook his paw away and continued.

"NOW LISTEN HERE! I'M PROUD TO BE WHAT I AM! I DOUBT A PAMPERED SQUIRREL LIKE YOU COULD WORK HERBS LIKE I CAN! OR RESEARCH LIKE MY HUSBAND! JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE A _SQUIRREL _DOESN'T MAKE YOU BETTER THAN US! NO..."

Erzvin grabbed Zeela's paw and pulled her back. "Where did you say our dorm would be?" he asked Posy. The old hedgehog told him the directions, and Erzvin went to a exit from the Great Hall. He opened it a Zeela followed him, still shouting.

Before Mervo followed after them, the fox spoke with surprising clarity for a young one. "Compliments to Friar Durglo. The food really was good. Please accept my apologies." Then the young fox hurried through the door after his parents.

ooooooooooooo

Anera knocked on the door. It was answered by Erzvin, the light furred fox. Behind him, Zeela was singing a lullaby to Mervo.

"What?" asked the fox in a tired voice.

"Umm... back at the wall you mentioned something about a vermin horde. We're bringing a council of elders, but they said you, Skipper and I should come, because Skipper knows about war, I was there when you said it, and you have a first-hand account."

Erzvin nodded. He detected excitement behind Anera's voice, that she would be allowed to come to an elder council. "I'll be there. But Zeela's putting Mervo to bed, so she won't come."

The mousemaid nodded; it was what she expected. "Follow me."

Abbess Fern, Skipper, and the elders (including Uggo and Posy) were already there.

"Must have been a thousand warriors camping out there, they're heading this way. They have some kind of Empire, and I believe they aren't coming to negotiate. The size of the army! And they probably had even more in the south. They're on the south path, It's only a matter of time before they get here," said Erzvin.

Abbess Fern was a middle-aged mouse. She had previously been in charge of the abbey's gardens, and when Uggo was too old to continue as abbot, the elders unanimously chose the young, though humble and wise, Abbess Fern. "One thousand?" she asked, and the fox nodded.

The elders were gaping. To muster such a force... "Do you know the leader?" asked Uggo.

Zeela thought about. "He rules the south. We lived at the border of his land, but he's an undersized, white fox with violet eyes. He's supposed to be quite smart. They call him Vafír Silvertung."

Fern thought about this. "Hmm... A force so large, and if that is their leader, he'd be ruling them on more than fear. They wouldn't listen to a runty fox unless there was something different about him. I think our best bet is Salamandastron."

The foxes looked confused, but the elders nodded. Skipper said: "We'll send a messenger on the great south stream. It's our best hope."

The foxes were still confused, but until more information was known, the council was disbanded.

**'The Great South Stream'**

Tharius was in the trees, near Vafír's army. Redwall abbey was quite, close, the Great south stream was in front of them, Saint Ninian's across the stream. The army was waiting to see if WROOTS(Water Rat Organization Of The South), who lived in a big lake, had received Vafír's message. Sure enough, after about an hour, many longboats started floating down the Great South Stream.

Vafír and half the army prepared to go. WROOTS had made just the right amount of space for the rats to crew the boats and have space once Vafír's army joined. The boats each sank about two decimeters when the horde joined.

Vafír turned to Darkblood.

"You will take control of the remaining half. You will conquer Redwall while I take over Salamandastron. We will need to do something different from the hordes of the past. Here is my plan."

Vafír handed a piece of parchment and small bag to Darkblood. The rat scanned over the parchment, and his eye widened. "Will you do the same thing with Salamandastron?" He asked.

The white fox smiled and tapped a glass vial in his belt. "If it comes to it. But I have... other ideas."

Darkblood nodded and grinned, knowing Vafír's ideas were always good.

"Come on, Silvertung," said the rat captain of the last boat. Vafír nodded and jumped in the logboat as it sailed off.

Tharius viewed the spectacle from the trees, waiting to get revenge on Vafír. As he became too distracted, he fell to from the tree with an audible thud. He obviously needed to work on his balance skills after the dungeons.

Darkblood turned. "What was that?"

Tharius scrambled back up the tree and went silent, waiting to see if something would happen.

Darkblood went toward the tree. Tharius clearly left tracks, but Darkblood could not see where they came from. "Nightrip! You're the best tracker. Come hear!"

The rat, the only one of Bloodpatch's crew that had stayed behind, limped forward and inspected the tracks carefully. He observed the tree, and noticed the scratch marks on it. He looked upward and stared for a few seconds. They he pointed forward, to the rest of the forest, and said: "They went that way."

Darkblood nodded and decided it wasn't worth it. Then he walked away with Nightrip.

Tharius breathed a sigh of relief and wondered what the rat had done.


	5. Chapter IV

**Chapter Four**

**'Redwall'**

_Anera looked up in her dream. There, before her, was a well-built mouse. She instantly recognized him as Martin the Warrior. The mousemaid let out a small gasp._

_"Anera," said Martin. "Redwall is in tremendous danger. Maybe greater danger than ever before. The only way to stop it is to find the secret of the past, and find the one that can save us. I must tell you..._

_Find the Enemy's Friend_

_Find the Betrayed_

_The lost prince of the south_

_To help save the day_

_Go to Salamandastron_

_Bring him my Sword_

_The rightful heir to the south_

_Help save the lands."_

Anera woke with a start. She was in front of the legendary tapestry of Martin the Warrior. Martin had appeared in her dream and given her a message.

She became slightly excited. The abbey was definitely in trouble, and she had received a message from Martin the Warrior, as she read about in the archives.

She decided to find Abbess Fern. She started asking around.

"Do you know where the abbess is?" she asked the nearest creature to her.

Mervo the young fox nodded, and indicated the pile of books in his paws. "Abbess is with Uggo. They let me have these books."

As the young fox walked away to read, Anera sped toward the Gatehouse and burst through the door. Abbess was talking to Uggo about the horde incoming, and Posy was training the assistant recorder, her daughter, Willow.

"Abbess! Uggo! I think I just got a message from Martin the Warrior!"

Uggo nodded, he had learned from experience to trust Martin's word. Anera told the riddle and Uggo recorded.

"Hmm... Well if we had some more knowledge from the south... huh," said a confused Uggo.

"Anera, go get a mole you can trust, their logic is always good. And find Erzvin the fox. He in the south," commanded Fern.

Anera nodded and sped off. A couple minutes later she returned, breathless, followed by a stout mole called Billo and Erzvin the fox. Fern showed them Uggo's recording of the riddle.

"Hurr, dat be a gurt 'ead scrasher, no moistake," reported Bungle in his molespeech. "Oi thinken Marthen wanted us to get 'is sword to oo'ever 'ee be talkin' 'bout."

Fern smiled and said, "Classic mole logic. But who is Martin talking about?"

Erzvin grinned. "That's where I come in. Before Silvertung came into power the south was ruled by the weaker force of the wildcats, and the stronger force of the goodbeasts at castle Floret, ruled by King Truffet IX, his wife, queen Karina, and their children. The princesses, Viola, Triana, Mina, and the Princes, Truffet XII, Regulon, and Tharius. Silvertung came and killed all of them, except young Tharius. The squirrel was put to go to the dungeons, never to be seen again. After torture, of course. Had something against the squirrel, I believe. Imagine surviving after your whole family was slaughtered, then your tortured and sent to the dungeons, forever."

"Hurr, Tharius must 'ee the lost prince, oi believe."

The others nodded. "So I think I need to go, alone, to Salamandastron," clarified Anera.

Even though the others nodded, Abbess Fern shook her head. "No. Skipper's daughter and a whole platoon of otters will be going already to get help. We'll send the sword with them."

"Abbess, Martin was pretty clear–" began Uggo, but was cut off.

"No! Why should we endanger her?" Anera was an orphan that came to the abbey. Fern, who lost her husband and dibbun child to a sickness, thought of the young mousemaid as her own daughter, and was very overprotective. "Skipper's platoon will leave tomorrow. We will send the sword with them. That is final."

Everybody disagreed, but the Abbess would not change her mind.

oooooooooooooooo

Uggo found Anera sitting on the wall, gazing at the stars.

"You must go. If Martin wanted others, he would say. And if there's anything I learned from being the Archive Master, it's that Martin's always right.

"So I already made preparations. I will give you a copy of yer riddle, the sword, some rations, and I have made a boat. The design was by a good rat called Blaggut; a dibbun could control it. Come."

He took out of the abbey to the Great South Stream. He gave her the copy, a bag of rations, and the sword, and she boarded and sailed away after saying her thanks.

Uggo felt he had done something great. Finally.

**The Great South Stream**

Dethfur, Foulpaw, and four others from the crew, all searats, Crabtooth, Ripjaw, Earfang, and Oiltail, sat swigging wine and doing one one of their favorite activities: Plotting Vafír's death.

"'E thinks 'e be sooo smart. Huh. I'll show 'im," said Earfang in his scratchy voice.

"What if we set fire to his boat?" said Oiltail, indicating the longboat in the very far back.

"How will we reach the boat without being noticed," asked Foulpaw.

A small paper floated from a nearby tree and landed on Ripjaw's head. The rat picked it off his head and unfolded it, then began to read; "Once we conquer Salamandastron, Vafír 'ill 'ave a nice feast. All we gotta do is poison 'is food or drink."

They all grinned at the idea, including Tharius, whom was hiding in the trees. Even if Vafír conquered the fortress, the fox would still die. He deserved it.

Jumping a couple trees to catch up to boats, he took aim with his bow that Eric had given him. Taking aim, he fired at Vafír. It was a good shot, but Vafír ducked, and it hit a water rat behind him. The fox remained completely phlegmatic, as usual. The water rats, however, shouted and quickened their pace, forcing Tharius to jump from trees faster.

Cursing, he took aim with another arrow. Just before he shot, a stone shot from a sling, knocking him senseless.

ooooooooooooo

Vafir passed a piece of bark parchment to another logboat. It made it's way to the pine marten, General Zaev.

The Pine Marten read it, his mouth spreading to a villainous grin. He looked ahead to one of the logboats in the front, where Dethfur and his crew were scheming. He laughed. They had no idea what was coming for them.

**Southsward, Slave Compound**

Bluenose the weasel was not one to miss something. And when Vafír and his horde left, he definitely noticed.

After Vafír had caught him, Bluenose had endured hard slavery. He had no joy He now sat in one of the slave compounds that belonged to Vafír, and was talking to a young otter, named Streampaw about plans of escape.

"This is our chance, with Silvertung gone," said Bluenose.

"Yes. But how?"

"We wait till we work in the woods. Then we climb the trees to escape."

"We're not squirrels, matey."

Bluenose nodded. "I know. But what if we find other ideas? Otters could wait till they're near the river. Moles could grab a chance and dig away. Squirrels could climb trees."

"What about you? And the mice, and hedgehogs, and voles, and shrews, and old ones, and young 'uns?"

Bluenose nodded. "The otters, squirrels, and moles will go across to the other compounds and give them the plan. Once you have an army of otters, squirrels, and moles you can raid the compounds to free the others."

"You really thought of everything."

The weasel shook his head. "You can never think of everything."


	6. Chapter V

**Chapter Five**

**'Redwall'**

Mervo, obviously, did not fit in with the other dibbuns.

To start, he was the only fox. Furthermore, he was quite odd. He did not enjoy eating, playing, or mis-behaving as much as the others. Instead, he spent most of his time on the abbey's lessons, which he found fascinating, and in the archives with the Wiltuds.

Needless to say, the other dibbuns resented him.

Mervo had been hanging by himself, crying, after a few otter dibbuns nearly drowned him in the abbey pond. He was soaking wet and sad, and had walked out of the abbey gates, wanting to find peace in the forest. He found a big oak and leaned against it, and opened his book. It was one of his favorites, of Martin the Warrior, and the wildcats of Kotir. As he read, a thought came to him. What if he could find Brockhall?

He had known others had found it. King Sarengo, Bikkle, Ruggum, Dirva. Truth be told, if he did find it, he definitely would not go in. It was probably filled with adders and such.

He passed the burnt remains of Saint Ninian's. He walked around in it, and a tug of sadness pulled at him. This was a great historical site, but it was burned to the ground. All because somebody had got themselves killed in here.

As he looked, he found an old box on the floor. It had a rusty lock Mervo accidently broke when he picked it up. It must have been fireproof, and Mervo did a quick test to find out how old it was.

Hundreds of seasons old. It must have been there before Luke the Warrior inhabited it. He gingerly opened the box, feeling excited. Inside was an ancient scroll. He unrolled it, finding it to be in a very different language, to his disappointment. He tucked inside the leather bag he used to carry books. He would show it to Uggo and Posy when he got back.

Then he felt something sharp touch his back. He turned and saw a villainous-looking ferret with dark fur holding a cutlass to his back. He let out a whimper of fear.

"Hah. Got you!"

The ferret forced young Mervo into a vermin camp.

"That's a fox," said a dark-furred rat that seemed in charge.

"'e was from the abbey," replied the ferret.

The vermin grinned wickedly at the small fox. All except one. Nightrip instantly remembered Mervo, and Mervo remembered him. They stared at each other, until the dark-furred rat walked up and grabbed Mervo by the arm, and tugged him to a wooden pole, then tied the young fox around.

"I reckon you'll be useful," said the rat.

**Redwall**

"YOU WHAT?" shouted Abbess Fern.

"I've learned to trust Martin's word. Don't let you emotions clog your wisdom," replied Uggo calmly.

Fern shook her head. "Skipper!" she called.

Moments later, the sturdy otter ran into the archives. "What do you want, Abbess?"

"Send your platoon. Tell them to deliver the message and help Anera once they catch up."

The otter nodded. He called for his daughter, , who was in charge of the platoon.

"Got it, Skip. Just give us a few minutes to pack our bags."

Skipper and the Abbess nodded, but Uggo said, "Please, Fern, this is a bad idea."

Fern shook her head. "No! Uggo–"

"Abbess! Listen, Martin's word is the truth. Believe me!"

Fern sharply shook her head. "They're going, whether you agree or not."

Uggo growled ferociously. "Abbess..."

Fern had never seen the old hedgehog so angry. She carefully took a step backward. "NO! Uggo, what could go wrong? The platoon is already being organized. Skipper's probably sending his best otters. Brookstream, Sturgeon, Tetra, Tench, Rasbora, and the like. Nothing wrong. They'll be gone within the next hour."

Uggo shook his head. "Something will go wrong. I feel it in my quills."

Posy nodded her agreement. "Aye. Trust Martin's words."

Fern shook her head, but then Zeela came in. "Has anybody seen Mervo?"

Erzvin followed. "He's been missing for an hour. We haven't seen him anywhere."

"He was in here earlier. I gave him a leather pouch to hold all his books," said Uggo.

"I remember that," said Posy. "He posy carrying so much it looked like his arms were about to break."

"Ask the other dibbuns," said Fern. "They'll probably be playing by the pond. Or frolicking by the trees."

The fox parents nodded and ran off. By the pond they saw three otter dibbuns swimming around. "Have you seen Mervo?" asked Zeela.

One snickered. "No, miss. 'Aven't seen 'Ervo," he replied.

Another laughed. "No, no. I 'aven't seen 'Ervo nowheres."

The third gave a giggle. "'Ervo 'issin. No' anywhere. Mebbe 'e wint fer a swim."

With that all the otters laughed loudly and paddled away. Zeela shook her head and moved on to the next group at the pond. Holly was bullying some squirrelbabes because they couldn't climb yet. When she caught sight of Zeela she squealed in fear and fell back in the pond, soaking herself. The squirrelbabes cheered, and Zeela chuckled a bit.

"Have you seen our son?" asked Erzvin.  
"Hmmm? Oh, Nerdo Mervo." asked one of the squirrelbabes.

At the name 'Nerdo Mervo', Zeela almost went berserk again, but controlled herself. "Yes. Where is he?"

"Pwobabwy weading somewheres," said one squirrelbabe.

"In 'is dorm," said another, "or-"

A loud voice interrupted the mousebabe. "Abbeyfolk! I am Darkblood the rat. I declare war on this abbey. And, I have a hostage..."

Zeela, Erzvin, and a few others ran to the top of the wall. At the bottom, bound and gagged to a stake, was Mervo, tears streaming down his face.

oooooooooooooooooo (A few hours later)

The bells rang, symbolizing war coming. The gates opened for what would be the last in a long time. Woodlanders poured through them, trying to get inside. Four were shot down by the vermin, though they dared not charge yet.

Then the gates shut.

War was in Mossflower!

**The Great South Stream**

Anera was enjoying herself immensely. She sat happily in her boat. The little thing completely bypassed the vermin camp she saw. Uggo had given her some books, but most of the she spent sightseeing. Blaggut's design was so simple, she really did not have to worry about letting the little boat go awry.

She had never been this far from the abbey; Fern had been too overprotective. She loved the smoothness of the river, the beauty of the forest, and the overall joy she was feeling.

Life was good.

Brookstream and the otters were enjoying themselves immensely. They sung otter tunes, had hotroot eating contests, and more. Their boat was fairly fast, and would catch up to Anera quickly.

"There she is!" called an otter named Sturgeon.

Sure enough, Anera's small boat was just ahead. Then they would get help from Salamandastron and save the abbey.

Life was good.

**Mossflower Woods**

Fyron, the ferret that caught Mervo, and had recently been promoted to captain, was enjoying himself immensely. He enjoyed his newfound power. After just a little bit, he heard some songs.

He looked through the trees to the river. An otter shop was moving quickly downstream. He smiled. This was his chance to prove Darkblood was right to promote him. He pointed at his platoon. "Everybody, get bows and go downstream. Get ready to shoot at that boat. I think it might be tailing master Silvertung."

The archers nodded and ran, then drew their bows. A few seconds later he heard twangs, coupled with otter's screams.

Life was good.


	7. Chapter VI

**Chapter Six**

**Mossflower Edge**

Tharius awoke groggily. He had a splitting headache, and it didn't help he was hanging upside down from a tall rowan. As he opened his lazy eyes he saw hundreds of ugly little rats, covered in yellow, purple, black, and green paint. They were laughing wickedly, and sometimes vanished into their trees because of their camouflage.

"Heehee! Painted ones caughtye!" shouted one, a tiny brat.

Tharius growled and gnashed his teeth, but the painted ones were unafraid.

"Make way for ze royal family!" shouted one.

Two burlier rats walked forward, holding ropes to contain the creature carrying the royal family. There were three on the creatures back, though one of them was exceptionally small, and Tharius realized it was a child. The other two he expected were the thing's parents, as they both wore crowns and were fatter than most.

But it was the creature they were riding that really caught his attention. The creature had wild, ferocious eyes with square pupils, long horns jutting from its forehead, shaggy gray fur, and long beard, and instead of paws, had hooves that it walked on with all fours. It was the size of a large badger, and looked that if he had half a chance he would squash half the painted ones to pulp.

"Eatemup! Eatemup!" called out the Painted Ones. There enthusiasm scared Tharius.

"Eatemup! Makefire! Makefire!" replied one of the ones on the creature.

"Huzzah!" they called, as they rushed off to find firewood.

"Wait! He cud be useful!" shouted the creature, in a highland brogue.

The Painted Ones looked at him quizzically. "Whatchoomean?" asked one.

The creature smiled. "Och, 'ave ye fergotten 'bout The Golden One?"

The painted ones stopped. Then one on its back shouted, "Heehee! Yesyes. Treemouse get Golden One!"

"Golden One! Golden One! GOLDEN ONE!" called the rats.

"Firsta, though, putinprison!"

ooooooooooo

The prison was a ramshackle wooden hut Tharius was thrown in with the horned creature.

"Forgive my asking, but what are you?" asked Tharius, unable to keep it in any longer.

The creature chuckled. "Och, ah'm what ye'd call a 'goat'. We live fah in the North Mountains. Mah name is Hurqu the Proud. Ah came fer travel 'n' adventure. Foolish meh, got caught by those painted rats."

"Well, Hurqu, I'm Tharius, though I remember very little of the past. Tortured, you see. What's The Golden One?"

"Poor ye. Lissen, The Golden One is a little gold statue of a tiny rat. The painted brats worship it. But it got stuck high in a tree."

"Well I can climb a tree, but it seems the Painted Ones can too. Why do they need me?"

"Becuz somethin' f'rocious is oop there. It's killed a score of the blighters already."

"So I'm the sacrifice. Out of the frying pan and into the fire." Tharius leaned moodily against the wall.

"Lissen, Tharius. Ah just need a distraction. Then I can save ye, meh, and give those rats a whopping they'll remember."

Tharius chuckled at the imaginary sight of one of those rats caught between the creatures horns. "What do you need me to do?"

ooooooooooooooo

Mervo was crying.

Well, of course he was. He was tied to a stake in the woods surrounded by vermin in the summer dawn. Hungry, cold, and tired.

The only vermin awake was the yawning weasel guard. So he was lonely as well. Along with some vermin shouting in the woods; they were building some foul contraption. But they were deep away in the woods and Mervo couldn't see them.

_This is all those otters fault! _he thought angrily, trying to find someone to blame for this mess. He was still bitter he was forced with the other dibbuns. He was fourteen seasons old, and he looked it up and the abbey definition of dibbun was under ten seasons. But because he was as small as the Dibbuns, he was grouped with them. _If they hadn't tricked I wouldn't have left the Abbey. Now what will I do?_

He tried to think of happy thoughts. When he had first beat his father in chess! But that made him think of how they were kicked from their house and he would never see the chess set again. Or when he finished organizing the books in his father's library by title! His father was so proud, and researching would be so much easier. But he would never see those books again...

There was the taste of Redwall food. Yes, Friar Durglo's scones, smothered in cream and dashed with cinnamon. The crispiness and the taste, hot from the oven... but then he remembered how hungry he was. What about when he would snuggle in his blankets, warm and cozy. Yes... a freezing-cold breeze of night air gushed through, and he shivered. What he wouldn't give for a comfortable position! The ropes were uncomfortable, the stake was hard, the gag was stuffy, and he was lying vertical!

The weasel yawned again, interrupting the fox's thoughts. He closed his eyes, trying to find peace. When h was sailing across the great inland lake for a summer. There boat was rowed cheerfully by Mervo's father, while Mervo's mother told him stories and sang songs, this about seven seasons ago. He enjoyed the sunlight and wind, and his father gave him a fishing line to catch fish.

Mervo enjoyed it, even though he could catch anything. Until he felt a great pull!

A tremendous fish had grabbed on to the bait, and pulled the little fox overboard and into the water. A great pike swam at him, sharp teeth glistening, black, lifeless eyes gleaming at him. The pike rushed forward, and was about to devour the little fox, when Zeela, with that same berserk rage that was similar to her anger at Holly, leaped from the boat, tackling the pike. Erzvin grabbed Mervo by the scruff of the neck and pulled him overboard.

The water was painfully still for a couple minutes. Then Zeela burst out, a dead pike between her jaw and a wild look in her eyes.

They sailed back, and Erzvin and Zeela began to calm Mervo down. The young fox was traumatized after the experience, but after he had some of the pike and ate a bit of the scrumptious pike, then listened to Zeela's lullaby, he began to settle down.

Now, tied to a stake at sunrise, he recalled the lullaby.

_Far Across the Land,_

_And just before the sea,_

_The mountain of power,_

_That's where you'll find me,_

_Where a dragon warns,_

_The dangers away,_

_I will find peace there,_

_A path so far, a very long way,_

_Through the trees of the great forest,_

_And alongside a stream that's fullest,_

_Through the mountains high,_

_Were the winged mice eyesight is nigh,_

_Far Across the Land,_

_And just before the sea,_

_The mountain of power,_

_That's where you'll find me,_

_Through the wetlands,_

_Of monsters alike,_

_Brave your way towards the sands,_

_Beware the swamps fiends,_

_To the place of golden peace,_

_Of great tranquility,_

_Far Across the Land,_

_And just before the sea,_

_The mountain of power,_

_That's where you'll find me,_

_Across the place where sea meets land,_

_Across the dunes and sand,_

_Beware clawed creatures,_

_Those that are hostile,_

_To find the mountain where magic does surge,_

_Far Across the Land,_

_And just before the sea,_

_The mountain of power,_

_That's where you'll find me,_

Mervo smiled to himself as he was near the embrace of sleep. His eyelids drooped and peace over came him, he felt serene and joyful.

Then the weasel guard fell to the ground, unconscious.


	8. Chapter VII

**Chapter Seven**

**'The Shore'**

Head Scout Alfar Miggory was weaving through the dunes with a few other scouts. The lanky, light brown hare was always alert for anything. That was what his grandfather always said, "Be prepared!" His grandfather wanted him to be another boxing hare, but the lanky Alfar was better suited for scouting. He enjoyed his job, and he was also talented with the Katana, which was his most prized possession. It was given to him by a strange trader from a far land, a bulky rabbit with dark-brown fur and short legs.

As he thought of this he fingered the hilt of his prized weapon. He became lost in thought when another scout, named Kally, came up to him. "Ergo wants to tell us something, but he wants you to be there, wot wot!"

Alfar shook his head, wagging his ears. "Hmmm.. Oh! Ergo, yes! Well on we go, wot!"

Ergo was an old mole hermit that lived between the border of the swamplands and the shore. His hut was made of wood and the hares entered through a small door. Inside was Ergo's huge, fake snake that he used to scare the toads away, a bookshelf, Ergo himself, a table, a small kitchen, and Ergo's pet dippler, Skyflyer, which only spoke, as Ergo said, when there was only Ergo listening. The four hares crowded the place, but the hermit didn't seem to mind.

"Hurr, 'ullo long huh'trol 'ares. 'Ow 'oes it?"

"Very nice, wot wot!" replied Alfar impatiently. "Well, good chap, my friend 'ere said ye wanted to show us something, wot!"

Ergo slowly nodded. "Burr aye, so oi did. Skoifloier told me that ther 'ee boats sailin' 'own the shream. Ratters an' vermints, lots!"

"Oh really? Hmm... Could you give us some more info?"

Ergo slowly shook his head. "No, Skoifloier say no more 'bout vermints."

"Could it be that empire, the one from the south? I mean, they conquered Southsward and everything south of the place, it was only a matter of time before they came here, wot!" said Kally.

The hares went over a silence. "If that's true, then we'll have some big fish to fry," said a young scout called Trav.

The others nodded, but Ergo smiled. "Hurr, oi need'n moi space. Cum back anuh'er day," said the mole, shooing them from his hut.

**Mossflower**

Mervo was crying himself silly when he felt the ropes go loose.

He felt Nightrip's paw on his shoulder and heard the rat's voice. "Stay quiet. I'm trying to save you."

Mervo silenced himself. He followed Nightrip away from the camp.

"I never wanted to hurt you. I swear," said the rat. "I was a good tracker so I got into Bloodpatch's crew. And I was smart, so Vafír liked me. But I was forced to do every bad thing. I always felt different. Like I was more mouse than rat. This is my chance to redeem myself."

Mervo nodded and wiped away tears. "Thank you," he said quietly.

Nightrip nodded. They began to walk away from the camp, silently.

"Listen, the other vermin are asleep. But the one who caught you, Fyron, his patrol is circling the abbey. Now- he's coming. Hide!"

Mervo quickly hid behind a tree.

"Sorry captain!" said the rat. "The fox slipped away so General Darkblood sent me–"

Fyron sneered. "Shoo, runt. We have more important matters."

Nightrip scurried away. Mervo followed him from behind the trees. He stepped out and began again to follow Nightrip when a weasel called Scumtoes, who was getting rid of Fyron's tracks, came up to them.

He noticed Mervo.

He grabbed at the fox. "The prisoner–"

Nightrip pulled a knife out and stabbed the weasel in the back. Scumtoes keeled over in death, but let out a cry. "Escape!" Nightrip and Mervo began to hear the patter of Fyron's platoon's paws.

"Run!" shouted the rat. When Mervo proved to slow, always reading and never exercising, he picked up the fox. They ran, Nightrip faltered for a second, allowing the vermin to catch up to them.

The fastest, a stoat, caught up to them, by the river. Just before he speared the two, an otter burst from the water. He was bleeding from his shoulder, but he quickly grabbed Nightrip's knife and stabbed the stoat.

"GO!" shouted the otter.

Nightrip ran with Mervo until they were deep in the forest and the rat faltered and tripped, an arrow protruding from his back.

The fox squirmed from under Nightrip. Hearing the battlecries of the otter battling the vermin, he realized why Nightrip had stopped.

"I'm going, young un," said the rat. Tears poured from both their eyes. "I'm going to the dark forest. At least... at least I'll die brave."

"No, if we get back to the abbey, my mother can save you. She's good with herbs and-"

"Listen. I won't make it back to the abbey. But I'll die well, at least," Nightrip's eyes had a faraway look. "Once I tracked down a family of shrews for galley slaves. All died, even the young ones. And it was my fault. I wanted a chance of redemption since them. This was my chance."

"No, no!" cried Mervo, but the rat was already gone. Into the place for heroes in the dark forest.

oooooooooooo

"Tench! And he has young Mervo with him!" called Abbess Fern. The worried fox parents, Zeela and Erzvin, were having tea with the Abbess, Posy and Skipper to calm their nerves.

The gates were opened and Tench the otter hurried up the walls, carrying young Mervo. The otter was bleeding from his shoulder, shin, and cheek, and his left ear was missing. But he was alive. They both had tears on their face.

Mervo ran to his parents and hugged them. "The vermin caught me. The others were mean to me so I went to the forest- but a rat, one that kicked us from the farm, saved me. But-" Mervo stammered, then erupted in tears.

Tench looked at them. "The rat that saved him died, an arrow through the back. I don't know why he did it, but your son owes his lives him. He might want some sleep."

The parents nodded, and Zeela asked, "Why are you not with the platoon?"

Tench shook his head sadly. "The vermin attacked. I was the only one to survive."

Skipper looked up. "What about-"

Tench shook his head sadly. Skipper slowly stared blankly, then fainted, his chair falling back and his tea spilling everywhere.

After a silence where Zeela and Erzvin picked the otter up and carry him to the infirmary, followed by Mervo, Posy glared at Abbess Fern. "You! If you hadn't ordered the otters to go, if you had just listened to Martin the Warrior, we wouldn't have lost those lives. This is _your_ fault."

The old hedgehog stood up and stalked off. Fern put her head in her hands and began to cry.


	9. Chapter VIII

**Chapter Seven**

**'Redwall'**

Mervo went to the archives to return the books he had borrowed. Uggo and Posy were obviously in a bad mood, but gladly welcomed him, and obviously felt bad for the young fox, since he had gone through his troubles. As Mervo was pulling the books out of his bag, he realized he had forgotten about the script he found in Saint Ninian's.

"Mr. Wiltud," he said, pulling out the old script. "I found this scroll in Saint Ninian's. Do you have any idea what it means, I don't know the language, though I wish I did."

Uggo looked at the scroll for a few seconds., then laughed. "See, Posy! I knew I'd be glad I learned Ancient Badger! Listen, Mervo. Come back tomorrow. I should have translated it by then."

Mervo nodded. "Thank you."

Uggo smiled at the young fox. "It's good to see the future is in good hands. You remind of one in the stories here, a young mouse called Saxtus."

"I remember Saxtus. I always liked him, because he was similar. His diary helped me a lot the past days."

"Hmmm... Before you go, I want to show you something I gathered from your father's contribution. It's very interesting, and I think it pertains to the badger script. It was written by your great-great-grandfather, the one from Gulo's horde."

He pulled an old scroll in his own language from a shelf he had seen his father observe many a time, and handed it to Mervo.

_My name is Zêrin_, Mervo read, _I served in Gulo the Savage's army, something I will always regret. My friends have all passed, and I ran away. Something is pulling me to go out and kill. It reminds me of what I have heard of the badgers' bloodwrath, though this is constant, yet not overwhelming. I have found the remains of an old church. There I have found some ancient badger script that I believe could save myself and my descendants if I have any._

_So now I change myself. I change myself, in order to give me a choice, like the goodbeasts in Redwall Abbey._

_In order to do so, I must break the pull. This is my story..."_

'**The Past, The Sand Dunes'**

Zêrin the fox hiked across the shore, his perilous journey now complete. His yearn for blood urged him to plunder and turn back, but he pushed it down. Unless he succeeded, the wrath would overcome him. So he must do what needs to be done. He must find the source.

There was the mighty mountain Salamandastron. He must go through it, unlock its secrets, without being slain by Lady Melesme and her hares, or letting his wrath overcome him. A difficult plan, but necessary.

He must. For him, and all those descended from him.

He followed the instructions of the ancient Badger Scroll. He would need to find a secret pathway into the mountain, one forgotten in time and story. Weaving through the dunes, he felt around at them until he a hard rock underneath the golden sand. He brushed with all his might, and the sand sifted away, revealing a secret passageway. He crawled through the ancient wooden door, revealing an old emerald mine that used to belong to shrews. He walked along the old, rusted rails when he found the minecart.

The mine was dark and eerie, with strange clicks every now and then. Cobwebs decorated the wall, and he worried, _what if there are spiders in here?_

He passed an old minecart, the rickety thing rusted and filled with small skeletons of shrews that could not escape. The mine had been victim of a horrendous gas leak, which was caused by an explosion from Salamandastron. Zêrin was staring at the skeletons as he walked forward. When he turned back, he found eight black eyes glaring at him.

"Heeeeellooooo," clicked the tarantula with a scratchy voice, her many eyes glaring at the fox and legs moving slowly. "The pooooint-eeeears-foooour-leeeegs is whiiiite... whaaaat coooould it meeeean? I've nooooot beeeeen up theeeere for fiiiiivescoooore seeeeeeasons, suuuurviiiiiving on thoooose thaaaat iiiiinfeeeest myyyyy miiiiind. Liiiiike pooooint-eeeears-foooour-leeeegs, even whiiiite-furred ones..."

Zêrin stepped back in fear. "Wait! What can I do? I've come so close, there must be something!"

"Yooooooou could aaaanswer myyy riiiiidllle. I woooould looooove tooo seeeeeee a creeeeeature thaaaat cooooould aaaaaanswer myyyy riiiiidle."

_At least I have a chance, _thought Zêrin, before he heard the riddle.

_I am the king, but weak I am,_

_The target of the battle,_

_I am the queen, just as strong,_

_I am a soldier, weaker I am,_

_I am a knight, a brave and agile one,_

_I am a priest, I am wise in my attacks,_

_I am a castle, brave and arrogant,_

_We fight to death, to kill the enemy._

Zêrin gaped. This could be anything! _A kingdom. Yes... that would make sense. What enemy though? I suppose an enemy kingdom, but they wouldn't always fight to death, no, they would try diplomacy, wouldn't they? And why would the king be weak? Ohh..._

Zêrin wondered if it could be a specific kingdom, so he tried to recall all his experience with kingdoms, even his chess games, but he could find nought. _What about Gulo? He was strong, but weak in the mind. And always fought to the death. And... no! He wasn't necessarily a king, and there was no queen. And how could a castle have any personality? No..._

The tarantula clicked in hunger, causing the fox to jump back again. Zêrin tried to look at the words used to describe. _Weak. Maybe not in power, just in physique. And the queen would be exactly the same, just the king's the target. And the soldiers are also weak. But the knights are agile? Aren't knights covered in heavy armor? And since when does a priest attack, and a castle doesn't have personality traits! Unless it's in some ridiculous story or game!_

Then the answer hit him. He knew it was risky, but it accounted for everything. "Chess!" he shouted. "The game of Chess!"

The tarantula glared at him, and for a second he thought he would be devoured. Then there was a few fang clicks, and she walked back away, whispering, "Goooood jooooob. You are a smaaart fox."

Zêrin smiled with relief. Then he ran down the opposite fork the tarantula went through, until he came across a light.

At last he found it. A room he knew was part of Salamandastron. There was a treasury, gold, jewels, armor, and weapons. There was a badger here, his inscription marked Urthstripe. A great beast with tremendous power.

Zêrin felt a deep pull of greed to steal the treasure, but logic cut in. He must do this. So he pressed on. He found a large emerald, mounted on a golden pillar, and pushed it into a mold in the wall. A few rocks gave, revealing yet another passage. He walked through. There was a perfectly circular room, the rock completely black, as if he was staring into a starless night sky. In the middle of the room was a still burning torch mounted on a staff, it had remained burning for all these years, the flame a brilliant ice blue. Zêrin tried to blow it out, even though the badger script told him it would be impossible. Surrounding the torch in a circle were the Seven Stones of Xeymar.

For is not seven the most magical number? Seven music notes, seven days of a week, and seven phases the moon shows itself with, and the one where it vanishes from the sky. They say Xeymar was the seventh son of the seventh son. Yes, seven is a magical number.

Zêrin placed his paw on the blue fire. His paw ignited, but the fire was not burning him, but was rather cool, as if he had jumped in a pond on a hot day. The fire spread across him, until it had enveloped his entire body.

The fire dissipated, leaving Zêrin different. His fur was clean, his eyes were brighter, and he felt a score of seasons younger. But there was a greater, more important difference.

He felt something. He was now in complete control of himself. Then he laughed. And he was filled with such mirth, he started singing. Not a song of death or war, but of joy.

Oh, I am free, I feel I could fly like a bee,

The joy, the joy, I am free, not a toy.

Not controlled by some mythical spell,

Oh, what a tale I have to tell.

I am Freeeeeeeeeee!

**(Author's Note: This is not Zêrin's full story. I plan to make a story about that, but not at the moment. This is just what matters for this story.**

**Also, just before somebody calls me out on this, I want to say that way back when, the queen was exactly the same as the king in terms of movement in Chess.)**

**The Great South Stream**

"Here come the rapids!" called out a captain of the first logboat.

Vermin of Vafír's horde screamed in fear. The feral cats backed up to the center of the boat as the rapids splashed fierce water at them. The WROOTS, however, were skilled waterbeasts. With practiced ease they navigated through the fierce waters. Vafír stood up, making sure the rats were keeping strong.

The logboat in front of them crashed into the water, wood shattering everywhere. Pieces and screaming vermin were cast out through dark tunnels into the mountains, or just vanished under the foaming water, never to rise again.

"What a pity," whispered Vafír phlegmatically.

General Zäev twiddled his thumbs. The Pine Marten was bored, there was nobody of his rank to talk to. Griv and Darkblood were at Redwall, probably enjoying plenty of action. While he was stuck on a boat bored.

"Bloodtoe!" he called to a gray rat captain.

The gray rat looked back at him. "What, General?"

"Think we'll see any action?"

The rat chuckled. "Heh. When we get to Salamandastron, I hope."

"Hahah!" laughed the Pine Marten. "Listen. You're a good, solid rat, Bloodtoe. You do well and you could be a general like me.

The rat's eyes shined. "What would you like me to do?"

oooooooooooo

Vafír polished his sabre. He knew that a good warrior must have a good sword, so he took utmost responsibility in lovingly caring for the weapon every hour. He cleaned the blade, then sharpened it with the whetstone, then cleaned the inside and outside of his scabbard thoroughly, made sure the sword easily slid in and out of it, made sure the scabbard wasn't placing too much pressure on the blade, made sure the sword fit comfortably in the scabbard and didn't jostle around, and then polished everything.

"Argizt!" he called out to one of the WROOTS. "When do we reach Salamandastron?"

The rat shrugged. "I've never been to no Salamandastron. I no do nothing but follow orders."

Vafír knew the rat had contradicted himself twice, but knew what he was trying to say. "Well, then find somebody that does!"

The rat scampered away and got the captain of the ship, a tall rat with with a long goatee. "Well," he said. "I feel I should be honored, Silvertung asking me for help."

Vafír stared blankly at the statement. "When will we reach Salamandastron?"

"Seven moon-falls. Mebbe more, mebbe less. We'll see."

Vafír nodded. "Hmmm... What's your name?"

"Captain Occisor."

"Well, Occisor. I have a question. You know anything between here and the mountain?"

"Not much. Mountains, the swamplands of course, and a few other things. We won't have much trouble." The rat spread a map across the table. "Well the swamplands might be a small problem."

Vafír placed a paw on where they would be, and dragged it down the river to the shore. "What if we sail down the coast, and get closer to the mountain?"

"Then the waves will crush the logboats."

"Ah. So we'll have to fight the toads?"

"Looks like it."

"Any way we can go faster?"

"Nope."

"So let's start working on our plan of how to fight those toads. Maybe we could get them on our side?"

"No! They're savage beasts!"

"Perfect."

**The Great South Stream**

Findelo Gonfelin the Wandering Bard was a joyful mouse, and true to his name, enjoyed wandering, singing, and eating. He had played at Redwall, Salamandastron, Noonvale, Castle Floret, and many other places. The fellow was waltzing through the mountains singing a ditty and playing his lute when he saw Anera's boat.

"'Lo, there! What are you doing sailing through the mountains alone?"

Anera chuckled. "I must do a mission."

"What sort of mission could this be?"

"I'm from the Redwall place. We're in danger, and I received a warning from Martin the Warrior."

"Ah! Redwall. Great tuck there. Hmmm... The Martin chap helped found the place, did he not? So did my ancestor. Anyway, could it be all those vermin that sailed past here? They were followed by a squirrel. Heh. They were watched by a squirrel that was watched by me."

"Possibly." Could the squirrel be Prince Tharius? "They came down this stream?"

"They did. Well you better go. But rest assured," the mouse grinned, "I'll be there to help if there's trouble."

Anera laughed as she sailed away. With her mirth she failed to notice the fierce rapids as her little boat failed to endure their wrath.

**Painted Ones' Camp**

Tharius repeated their plan in his head. _Climb the tree. Then Hurqu rams through the prison hut and attacks the rat holding the rope around my neck. Once I can run, I jump down, and go to the tall oak with my claymore and bow with arrows, and Hurqu's grippers and axe. Note to self: What on earth are grippers? Then, we fight are way to freedom. Don't get killed or recaptured. Those are the rules._

"What are grippers?" asked Tharius.

Hurqu chuckled and held up his hooves. "How do ye expect meh teh hold anaythang with these?"

Tharius laughed. Then the door to the hut opened, and a painted one walked in, a sneer on his face. He through a rope over Tharius's neck and yanked the squirrel outside, then closed the door behind him. Tharius tried to loosen the rope, but the rat just tightened it, causing Tharius to choke.

The painted one yanked Tharius next to a tall sycamore. It looked quite enough, but Hurqu said there was some, thing, up there.

Hundreds of Painted Ones crowded around the sycamore, including the royal family. The one with the rope around his neck pointed upwards. "Yousa go up dere! Getta Golden One! Makeus happyhappy!"

Tharius sighed and gripped on to the tree. His paws firmly gripped the tree as he climbed. _This _was a squirrel's natural place, not in a dungeon. He felt so relaxed that he nearly forgot about the rope around his neck. He entered through the leaves. The green leaves shrouded him as he heard the the painted ones shouting ("Heeza vanished! Makeasure rope is tight!"). He searched through the branches, and in the center he saw a small golden statue of rat standing pompously. It was crudely carved, but it was definitely the Golden One. He grabbed it, just in case.

"Aiiiiieeeeee!" he heard the call of the Painted Ones. He felt the rope go loose as the Painted One let go as Hurqu blasted him with his horns. Laughing, Tharius caught sight of the tall oak a couple trees away and leaped.

As he was in the air curved yellow talons gripped his shoulder. A ferocious mountain eagle grabbed him and flew upwards. This was the beast up the tree. "Yaah! The squirrel thinks he can steal from Faro Goldenbeak? He shall pay!"

Tharius struck upward with the golden statue, catching the bird in the leg. It staggered and its hold on Tharius lessened, but remained secure. He kept striking, and the bird stabbed with its beak, a midair fight.

It looked as if the bird wood win. High in the air, Tharius was losing badly, blood pouring from his wounds. He kept striking, but there was less vigor in his attack. Tharius tried a desperate last strike. He smashed it down on his shoulder, crushing the birds talons. Faro screeched and dropped Tharius, as the squirrel fell to the ground.

Tharius let the statue fall, but regaining his vigor he grabbed a branch on the tall oak. He winced as his arm was pulled, but held on.

He clambered down and found the entrance. Hurqu would lose the fight soon without help. He found his claymore and bow with arrows, and the goat's axe and grippers. They were a pair of wooden molds with hooks that were controlled from the inside, so Hurqu could open and close the hooks.

He grabbed them and rushed out. Hurqu charged at him, fear in his wild eyes. The Painted Ones were closing in on him, so Tharius hastily grabbed the gripper and shoved them over his hooves. He passed the axe, which fit in the hooks well.

"Thanks," said the goat. "But what cud weh do. We're surrounded."

"We give them a fight they'll remember!" called Tharius, brandishing his claymore.

The two friends charged into the mêlée, slashing and hacking. Hurqu had tremendous power. His fighting was such a force that Tharius was forced to fall back and attack the rats on the end. The goat barraged forward, smashing with his hooves, hacking with his axe, and goring with his horns. The rats pushed each other in front as the goat fought, trying to reach the royal family. Red mist filled his eyes and a wrath overcame him, and he charged with all might, blasting through the soldiers.

Faro dived down, striking three rats out of the battle. He stared with his fierce golden eyes at Tharius. "Yaah! The squirrel will pay for stealing and hurting Faro Goldenbeak! Yes! Die!"

The eagle charged at Tharius, but he had no space to take off and charged on his feet, allowing the squirrel to nimbly bound away. "Hurqu! This is our chance to leave! Run!"

But the goat was beyond reason. He had made it to the royal family and hefted the female and through her at the eagle, and Faro caught her on his talons. He lifted the male, and laughed maliciously. "Haharr! ye'll pay fer yer crimes!" And with that he beheaded the rat with his axe.

The child ran away from his dead parents. "Pwotect Me! Now!" he called, four rats coming to guard him.

"Come!" called Tharius. "RUN!" Tharius bounded off, hoping his friend would follow.

Tharius voice seemed to bring Hurqu back to reality. Shaking his head, the goat charged back the other way through the horde, trying to escape the vast amount of Painted Ones. The goat charged forward, making sure he didn't go berserk again. "Haway the Braaaaaaaaaaw!"

With that warcry the hordes seemed to be unsettled. They backed away, desperate to avoid his wrath. Hurqu ran forward, killing any unfortunate beast that got in his way. His charge broke through their ranks and he ran through Mossflower. He kept charging on, looking back and laughing.

He charged right into Tharius, who was standing still. And they both fell into The Great South Stream.


	10. Chapter IX

**Replies:**

**Sebias, I will definitely do a drabble on Nightrip, as he obviously didn't get enough time to develop.**

**Rogue Crew Holt**

The burly otter, Chief Thorkrig Axehound, swished his great-axe, laughing ominously.

"Heheh. Can't wait until we see some action, eh, Thirstblood?"

The wiry otter he referred to roared with laughter. "Aye! Should I send a few to check up on Salamandastron, just to see if there's any'thin?"

"You should!" The otter chief fingered his sharp blade. "Send meh daughter, Verane, and your son, Krudeblade, and mebbe a half-score more."

Thirstblood nodded and bounded off, laughing, leaving Thorkrig alone. Bored, the burly otter decided to see if there was anything to do.

He laughed as he heard a few crew members singing the official anthem of The Rogue Crew, _The Bloodmakers, by Skor Axehound._

"Ooooooh, there's blood on the axe,

And there's blood on the shield,

And there's blood on the swordblade, toooooo,

And if yer a foe of our Rogue Creeeeeeewww,

There'll be blood all over you.

Blood blood blood blood

blood blood bloooooooood,

There'll be BLOOD! (BLOOD!)

ALL! (ALL!)

O-! (O-!)

-VER! (-VER!)

YOOOOOOOOU!"

**Kamataya's ship, the _Revenge_**

Queen Kamataya laughed in the wind from the crowsnest of her ship. The wildcat's previously bright red fur had been crowing darker, to a deep maroon, as her brother was, as she stopped grooming it so well. Her robe was tattered at the ends, her eyes wild, her fangs yellower. She was a fearsome sight, ready to kill anybeast that came near. Even the blue hordes were nervous around her, and tried not to come near.

"Salamandastron!" she called, seeing the peak of the mountain far, far off in the distance. "We're getting close! Dedclaw, get the slaves rowing harder. We'll be at Southsward soon, then we can avenge my brother!"  
The wild queen's bloodshot eyes seemed to become slits when she remembered Salamandastron was far off. "Gaah! We'll be there! Soon!" Kamataya climbed from the crowsnest and grabbed Grimfur by his neck. "How much longer?"

"Gaah! Let go!" Kamataya through the weasel captain to the floor, and he continued, massaging his throat. "Far off, it'll be awhile. Sorry!"

The weasel winced as the Wildcat Queen whacked him. "I've good news! I've good news! The fox might come north! Then he'll be at Salamandastron!"

The wildcat forgot about the weasel and walked slowly towards the heel, laughing. "Haharr! I'm coming Silvertung! Then I'll kill you, and take the mountain!"

oooooooooooooo

A thin, old vole slave pulled his oar for the last time. He keeled over on top of his young hedgehog companion, dead.

The slavemaster, a tall, muscled rat, called Dedclaw, pointed at the vole. "We gotta ded un'!"

Two of his goons, big, buff weasels, ran forward and hefted the vole up. A third ran and unlocked the chains, and they ran off to throw the poor vole into the sea.

_'Tis a hard life, _thought the hedgehog, Branos Tuffqwill. Rowing was even harder with only him on the bench, but he dealt with it. Among the slaves he was known as "The Adapter", because no matter how hard the situation, he'd adapt to it. His slavemasters called him "Inferior", because he was not vermin with blue fur.

Branos only remembered his life on the ship. No family, no early life. He remembered rowing, eating slave slop, and the lessons that took his highland accent away (Kamataya hated it). Even with just him rowing, he was stronger than any of the other slaves. He had no ambitions, no dreams, just to row.

Was there anything more than rowing?

As Branos would find, there were many things that were more than rowing.

**Mossflower**

Captain Fyron felt relief run through his body. He had lived! And more than that, he had stayed captain. Though Darkblood had told him to do one thing:

_Figure out how many creatures are in Redwall, and their species._

So Fyron would become captain of the scouts. Fyron was glad Darkblood was a cunning general. He was not setting him up to fail, but that would be his fault. The ferret was quite nervous. He was in complete control. He had to choose who'd be in his squad and the strategy. For the first time, he felt bad for Zäev and Griv and Darkblood and Vafír, who always had to do this. But he would not fail! No, he would succeed!

Being vain, he believed ferrets were stealthiest of all, so most of his squad was ferrets, with a few rats and weasels. He portrayed stoats as dull, clumsy oafs, and foxes as too vain.

"Alright, Fyron. What d'ye want us teh do?" asked a rat.

"That's Captain Fyron, t'ye! Now lets 'ere it. Captain Fyron!"

"Cap'n Fyron!" replied the squad.

"That's better. Now lissen 'ere. We need to figure out 'ow menny are in yon abbey. And what does the emperor allus say?"

"Smarter, not 'arder?" guessed a ferret.

"Bingo! So that's what we're goin' t'do. We'll find a plan that's so devious, so cunning, that this'll be easier than fightin' a baby mouse."

The vermin chuckled. Maybe Fyron would be a good captain after all.

"So, let's start brainstormin'! I wanna 'ear all yer ideas!"

"We cud climb the walls!"

Fyron bit his lip. "Mebbe. Any others?"

"Pretend we're good, they let that liddle fox in!"

"Not bad, but they wouldn't trust us in war time."

"What if we 'ad a distraction? Somebeast be doin' one thing over 'ere, while us others be doin' another thing!"

"Another mebbe. We'll see."

"We cud tunnel!"

"Idjit! History! Did ye 'ear what 'appened to 'alf Cluny the Scourge's army? They got boiled alive when they tried to tunnel!"

"Oh, yer right."

"Hah! Mebbe we cud boil _them _alive!"

"How?"

"Ummmm... Errrrr... I dunno, but what if we cud?"

Fyron put his head in his paws. They weren't getting anywhere. "Remember, we don't want to take them out, least not yet. We just want to find out their size and strength."

The vermin nodded. "Yessir Cap'n!"

"Good. Now d'ye wanna 'ear what I 'ad in mind?"

The vermin nodded eagerly. "Ya, cap'n! Tell us!"

Fyron smiled. "This is my plan. We get our best guy up in a tall tree. When 'e sees some idjit walkin' 'round yon wall, he grabs 'im and runs. Got it? Now who's our best guy?"

Each vermin immediately raised their hands. Fyron sighed. This was going to be difficult.

ooooooooooooooooo

A tall weasel called Bluddfang hung by the branches of an oak by the south wall of Redwall, waiting for Tench the otter to come around. The strong otter was on guard duty, and had just began patrolling the south wall. Bluddfang eagerly prepared to leap from the tree. He held a sleeping concoction made by a rat alchemist called Kwiklah. _Just a few more steps..._

Tench walked right in front of Bluddfang. The grinning weasel jumped from the branch landing on Tench. The two wrestled for a bit. Bluddfang was making sure Tench could not call out with his paw, while the otter took the upper hand and began pummeling the weasel. Hurriedly Bluddfang smashed the glass vial of sleeping concoction against Tench's mouth. The otter struggled for a bit, then his eyes glazed and he went limp. Bluddfang had won!

The weasel picked up the heavy otter and looked down from the ramparts. Four ferrets were holding a stretched out flimsy fabric between them. Bluddfang gulped, looked side to side, and jumped. The fabric snapped without any resistance, but Bluddfang broke Tench's fall.

Quite literally broke. His spine bent horribly, the weasel called out to the laughing ferrets that were dragging Tench away.

"'Elp meh mates! 'Elp me..." But there was no help. They left Bluddfang to die by the south wall, calling for help that would never come.

**Redwall Abbey, Dreams**

_A wiry mouse walked up to Mervo, stoic. His eyes were gallant and brave, with a fire behind them that said he was a great warrior. _

_Mervo winced. If only he was as great as this mouse! Though he did look somewhat familiar..._

_"You're Martin the Warrior! From the tapestry, and all those books I read! I can't believe-"_

_The mouse put a paw over the fox's muzzle. "You are special, young one. You are a fox, though you are good. You are young, though you are more intelligent than many I have met. You have quite an ancestry."_

_"I know. I'm descended from-"_

_"Zêrin, yes, who freed himself. Though you are a mix of quite a few more. Your mother is descended from a fox called Groddil, who called himself a high magician. That is not true, but magic wisps did tell him some things. He discovered also the sacred fire and Seven Stones of Xeymar."_

_"Wait, magic's real? I-"_

_"Magic is real, though ancient. Nobody can control now. Just those who listen hard enough, they can learn things. Groddil did. I still do not understand everything, though I believe you will find out. You are related, very distantly, to great evils as well. The Marlfoxes, and even the one you fight. Silvertung."_

_Mervo gaped. "I'm related to them?"_

_"Yes, but you are not them. Who your family- well, it does matter, especially in your case, as Zêrin's blood gives you a choice. But you choose to be good."_

_"What do you want me to do? Or what do you want to to tell me? I mean, that's what you've always done."_

_Martin chuckled. "I like you Mervo. But yes, you're right. I want you to help. Redwall is in great danger. I have a feeling that you must continue a riddle I failed to answer. And you'll need help. Your family, moles, and a few others."_

_"What? How am I supposed to do that?"_

_Martin smiled. _

_"Go down to Codíra,_

_The wonder of old._

_To where the recorder wrote,_

_And under his seat._

_There you will find another,_

_One of me."_

_"Now, Mervo, I must tell you something. Don't forget the white flowers..."_

oooooooooooooooo

"Uggo! Posy! Uggo! Posy!" Mervo came bolting into the gatehouse excited.

"Whoa!" called Uggo, putting a paw in front of Mervo. "What do you need to tell us?"

"I gotta dream from Martin the Warrior!"

Uggo smiled. "Posy, write this down. Mervo, tell us everything."

Mervo plopped down in a cushioned chair happily, and began to talk about his dream. How Martin came to him, what the mouse had told him, and the riddle.

Posy stroked her quilled thoughtfully. "Well, this actually isn't _so _bad. Tinsel, get your brother and sister, and foremole and Bungle. And Brother Ruford. Don't forget the lad's parents."

Tinsel, the Recorder-in-training and Posy and Uggo's daughter ran off to do as her mother asked.

Posy continued. "I have no idea about Codíra, but it says quite blatantly to go to the recorder's writing room, probably the library of Codíra, and under his seat we'll find another...I'm not sure."

Uggo nodded. "Let's wait for Tinsel to get back."

They sat staring at the gatehouse door, waiting for somebody to walk in. After a few minutes, Tinsel walked in, followed by Darrow and Silvy, her siblings. Then came a thin mouse, Brother Ruford, and then Erzvin and Zeela, and finally came the breathless moles, Foremole and Bungle.

"Hurr aye, us'ns baint made fer runnin', burr," gasped Bungle.

Posy smiled. We're trying to figure out this riddle young Mervo was given. From Martin the Warrior. But Martin apparently doesn't even know the answer."

"Well, let's here it," said Brother Ruford.

Posy recited the riddle. "We figured out the middle part, but I have no clue what Codíra is, or the other one of me."

Ruford chuckled. "Well that's easy. It's another riddle. This is a riddle, to find a riddle!"

The other's nodded their heads. "Aye," said Darrow. "Ruford's right. But who knows what Codíra is?"

Uggo looked at Mervo. "I think it sounds familiar. Mervo, you probably have better memory than me. Ever heard of Codíra?"

"What do you mean I have better-"

"Page 223, sentence 17, _Brocktree, by Russano the Wise._"

"_Further conversation was curtailed as the bankvole referee entered the ring, followed by a line of servers pulling trolleys laden with food and drink._"

Uggo chuckled. "See what I mean?"

"But I still have never heard of Codíra."

Uggo shook his head. "I swear I've heard it afore. But I don't know where."

"Mebbe it was on that ole scroll ye were working on yesterday, dad!" said Darrow.

"What old- oh yes! It was! Here it says: _They even created this_ _beautiful redstone castle I'm writing this in, called Codíra._"

"Yahah!" called Tinsel. "There, we got somewhere!"

"Could you read the whole thing out loud?" asked Mervo. "It might allow us to better understand the situation."

"Alright, but you might be surprised by what's in here. Well, here goes nothing..."


	11. Chapter X

**Reviews Answers:  
**

**Waycaster: 1: Kamataya isn't actually new, I updated the prologue and added her. And yeah, I definitely need to put some more with her crew. As for her name, Kamatayan means death in Filipino (I like using foreign languages for names. Vafír comes from Vafer, ****latin for sly, ****Occisor is some language, I think norwegian, for death, ****Thorkrig, Thor is god of war, and krig is norwegian word for I think war, ****and Hurqu is latin for goat). Also, if you had read the rogue crew, you'd understand the song. ;) And as for Martin being vague, he doesn't know the full story himself... Though I will still change some things, thanks. And yeah, I'll go change Darkblood's thing. You're right about that, I was in a hurry.**

**Thanks for reviewing!**

**Bat Mountpit**

Tharius awoke, blinking water out of his eyes. "Where? What?" He asked groggily.

"Quiet, quiet. You need rest, rest," came a voice.

"Huh?"

"Quiet, quite, I said, said."

Tharius shook his head. "Where's Hurqu?" His vision focused and he saw a black bat leaning over him.

"The horned one healed quicker, quicker. You can see him when you are ready, you are ready."

Tharius tried to lift himself, but the bat pushed him down. "Rest, rest."

"No, I need to know what's going on!"

"You are in Bat Mountpit, Bat Mountpit, under Lord Nightshadow, Lord Nightshadow. I am Rockwing, We are here to help, help."

Tharius struggled a bit more, but Rockwing poured a strange concoction in his mouth and he drifted off to sleep.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

_Tharius was on a shore, surrounded by cliffs with caves into them. He was alone in the expanse, with exception of a wiry young mouse dressed in full armor, carrying a shield, and a magnificent sword with a red pommel stone. The sword's point was in the sand, and he had his right paw rested on it._

_"Hello, Tharius Oakleaf."_

_Always straight forward, Tharius plowed ahead. "How do you know my name, how am I here, and what do you want?"_

_The mouse chuckled. "You are dreaming, young one. I want you to remember."_

_"What do I have to remember?"  
_

_The mouse smiled. "You will remember, when you remember. Look for the one with the answers."_

_And with that, the scene dissipated, and Tharius awoke._

oooooooooooooooooooo

Tharius left his chamber, rubbing his head. He was trying to find some peace to figure out the dream, when Hurqu ran up.

Enveloping him in a bear hug, Hurqu lifted him off the rocky ground. "Och, ye're alive! Haharr!" The mountain goat dropped the squirrel on the floor.

Tharius smiled and looked up. "Hey, Hurqu." He grabbed the goat's gripper and was pulled up. "Do you know what's going on? Rockwing was kinda vague."

"That's somethin' bats do. But when we fell in the river, some current pulled us into a tunnel to auld Bat Mountpit. The bats, friendly chaps, saved us. There's a few others 'ere."

"Who else?"

"Well, a pretty mousemaid that 'asn't awoken yet, and a few vermin, also 'asn't awoken, and a group of-"

"Hurqu! This is Tharius, I presume." A bulky rabbit with dark-brown fur, short legs, and reddish eyes ran up and shook the squirrel's paw vigorously. "I am Amamo, the wandering trader." The rabbit pulled back his cloak, revealing six curved swords in elegant sheaths. He unsheathed one. "This is called a Katana. They are very good-"

"Lies!" exclaimed an angry hedgehog, that walked up behind the rabbit, interrupting him. He was an odd hedgehog, with a white-furred belly, light quill tips, and large ears. "That sword is useless! Weak, and you can disarm easily! Now-" he pulled back his cloak, revealing seven claymores. "These are prime fightin' weapons! Much better than any old Katana!"

Amamo continued the argument. "That's cause you use it wrong. Listen, all of you draw your weapons. I'll show you how you really use a Katana!"

Feeling foolish, Tharius drew caught a claymore the hedgehog tossed him. Hurqu grabbed his axe with his grippers; it was in a strap across his back. Amamo swished his Katana and stood on one short leg, Katana high above his head. The others stood around, waiting for the bulky rabbit to make his move. Suddenly, he swished it downward, tapping the hedgehog on his shoulder.

"Dead!" called the rabbit. After the hedgehog withdrew, he ducked under Tharius's attack and leaped up, doing the same trick.

"Dead! Aaaaand..." he moved to attack Hurqu. Wordlessly, the mountain goat flicked his axe, sending the blade across the cave, and it clattered across the wall. Hurqu then tapped the bulky rabbit's head with his axe.

"Dead."

"What are you doing, doing? I will not permit fighting in my halls." A tall bat, much larger than Rockwing, came forward. He was completely black, which made him a little hard to distinguish in the dark cave,

only lit by a single torch.

Amamo bowed. "Sorry, Lord Nightshadow. We were just practicing." His earlier brash voice had vanished, replaced with meekness.

The great bat nodded. "Make sure it does not happen again." He walked away, and after a few seconds Tharius heard the _whoosh _of wings.

After staring where the bat vanished to, Tharius jumped a decimeter and the sound of a new, deep voice. "Here's your katana, Amamo."

Tharius whirled around. A well-built badger was holding the katana, the thin blade dwarfed in his massive paw. He had a noble, bearded face with ice-blue eyes that stood out.

"Ah, ye dented it goat!" shouted the rabbit, pointing at a knot in the blade where the axe had hit it.

Hurqu laughed. "These braw lads are the Traveling Tradebeasts. You met Amamo, he's a foreign lad from the far east. Brought some very interesting weapon designs and attack techniques. And the auld hog is Aar Krullen, he's from the fah, fah south, where there's plains and flatlands. Also brought some good auld stuff with 'im. And the bonny badger there is from the highlands, brilliant blacksmith and fighter, 'is name is-"

"Ironhammer Wildstripe, cousin of Brawblade Wildstripe, lord of yon mountain. I was cummin' to visit him and met with Aar 'n' Amamo. We tried to brave the rapids and-" the badger moved his paw around- "we ended up here. I made that claymore, why don't you examine it."

Tharius held the claymore in front of his face. The blade was harder and stronger than any he'd ever felt before, with a blade like a razor. It felt like an extension of his arm; its balance was perfect. "Thanks."

"I was the one that gave it to ye! It'll cost ye!" shouted Aar Krullen.

Ironhammer laughed, a deep, booming laugh. "Relax, Aar. He can have it."

Tharius smiled. "Thank you, this is a marvelous sword, truly. Hurqu, could you show me around Bat Mountpit?"

"That will be my job, my job," came Rockwing's voice. "We have two types of caverns. Ground caverns, and the High cavern, the High cavern. The ground caverns are like the ones you are in. They are tunnels that all come to the High cavern, and also where we store food and medicine, keep young ones and groundwalkers, groundwalkers. The lowest ones lead to the stream or out side, why the highest leads out the top of Bat Mountpit. I will take you to the high cavern, the high cavern."

They followed Rockwing as the bat toddled to an abrupt end of the tunnel. There was a sheer drop from where the hole was. Rockwing spread his wings and flew.

Tharius was awed by the sight. The cavern expanded from the bottom of the mountain to the top. Holes decorated the walls, leading to more ground caverns. Thousands of bats flew around, or hung to the ceiling. Young bats leaped from ledges, encouraged by their parents to fly for their first time. Bats flew, playing or just for the sake of it. They latched on to the walls to sleep or take a rest. Tharius immediately noticed the massive Lord Nightshadow, largest and darkest of all the bats. He hung upside down from the ceiling, keeping an eye on any who would get to rough.

A young bat leaped from a ground cavern hole. He fluttered his small wings, and started flying flimsily. After just a few moments, his small wings failed him, and he began to fall to the earth, screaming.

Wordlessly, Nightshadow dropped from his perch. He dived down with speed that would make a bird flying with the wind look as if it was standing still. The great bat caught the young one. He carried the small bat back to the wings of his worried parents, then flew back to his upside down perch.

"Ye saw that, right?" asked Hurqu.

"Aye. Nightshadow is a good ruler, though there is many mysteries about him."

ooooooooooooooooooo

Four vermin, two rats, one weasel and one feral cat grumped around Bat Mountpit. They had just awoken, and had nothing to do, the only survivors of the boat crash.

Both the rats were WROOTS, and were uncomfortable being so high. All the vermin were unhappy with the bats, so the bats refused to allow them weapons, which made them even more unhappy. But the more they misbehaved, the more the bats disliked them.

A bat caretaker, Rockwing's mate, an albino called Whitefur, was speaking with Nightshadow.

"Lord, you may want to sort the vermin out, or remove them from the mountain and let them make a new life, new life. They are unpleasant and I do not think we can change them, change them."

Nightshadow shook his large head. "No, Whitefur. If we can change them, then we will have done something great. If we throw them out to fend for themselves, the greedy and lazy ones will die, and we'd have done something bad. Though, Whitefur, if you cannot stand them, then go see how the mousemaid is doing."

The white bat nodded and flew off.

ooooooooooooooooo

Anera yawned and rubbed her eyes. A white bat was leaning over her. "How do you feel, young one?"

Anera blinked. "Good, Abbess Fern. Thank you." The mousemaid yawned and rolled over. "Wait! Your not Abbess Fern!"

"That's right, right. I'm-"

"Where's the sword? Where's the boat? Do you know? I need to find a squirrel! Yes! Ummm..." Anera leaped from her bed and ran away from Whitefur. On the ground cavern, Anera was much faster than the toddling Whitefur.

"Wait! Come back, come back!" called the bat, but Anera was not listening. The disoriented mouse ran away, and didn't notice the sheer drop from the ground cavern hole.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

Nightshadow dropped like a stone. Without a sound he caught the falling mouse in his claws. He carried her up and dropped her in a heap in front of Tharius, Hurqu, and the Traveling Tradebeasts.

She accepted Aar's paw and was pulled onto her footpaws. "Thank you. Where are we?"

"We're in Bat Mountpit, young- what's your name?" asked Amamo.

"Anera. And yours?"

"I'm Amamo the Wandering Trader."

"I'm the great Aar Krullen!"

"Well, I guess that makes me Ironhammer Wildstripe, greatest of blacksmiths!"

Anera smiled. "And you two? And, no offense, but what are you?"

Hurqu chuckled. "Ah'm a great mountain goat! Mah name is Hurqu the Proud!"

"And I'm Tharius, the one who knows nothing about my past."

Anera stopped. "Could you be Tharius... Squirrelprince?"


	12. Chapter XI

**The Abbey Gatehouse**

_"My name is Arbor Brock, son of Iro Brock. I am the first lord of Salamandastron._

_My father was a brilliant emperor. He had all the creatures living in peace together, united under a single banner for peace. They helped each other, and they grew and prospered. But my father was worried this would not last forever. He was worried that there would be a civil war, or one of his descendants would mess things up. But then my mother, Rosestripe, died. My father was crushed, and his concerns increased tenfold._

_He made a plan with his generals. They will be listed now in a lengthy order, and is not so much as important, so if you are reading this document I grant you freedom to move on past these words."_

Uggo looked up from the document. "Should I read it?"

The others nodded vigorously. "We need all the information we can get," said Sylva.

Uggo continued.

_"There was Garro the Great, a wolverine with fantastic power. And Crendo the Architect, a truly brilliant toad. Fando the Artisan, an intelligent lizard. There was Fentar the Skillful, a rat that could break from any __prison, Brif the Mighty, a formidable wildcat, and Tera the Brave, a very courageous feral cat. And Haway the Braw, a squirrel that was the greatest fighter in the lands. Falton the Quick, Temveer the Bright, __and Gru the Powerful, weasel, ferret, and stoat. The Allseers, Miko the Knowing, Fazwel the Wonder, Eclipse the True, an Tamv the Wise, magpie, crow, raven, and jackdaw. Anya the Clever, a sable, Nive the warrior, a pine marten, Rordon the Fighter, an otter, Bren the Boxer, a hare, Dorro the Mighty, a goat, and Xeymar Silvertung, a fox._

_Xeymar came up with the plan. He was one of those who could harness the power of magic, and bend it to do things he'd want it to do. He was part of the reason the empire was so successful._

_Though this time the fox would need to cast a much more powerful spell. So he gathered seven great identical stones with the inscription of magic upon them, cast it in a cavern near the great volcano of Salamandastron, the most magical place known, and was prepared to light one of the blue flames._

_The blue flames were ice-blue colored fires held on seven-decimeter staffs. They are used in spells to increase the strength and length of the spell. When the flame is put out, the spell ends. However, it is virtually impossible to put a blue flame out._

_Haway, Rordon, and Bren were the only ones wise enough to refuse this spell. They all should have. For Xeymar tricked them. The spell was to create all of their kind with similar traits to themselves. This is what happened._

_Toads and lizards were fantastic architects and artisans once. __They even created this_ _beautiful redstone castle I'm writing this in, called Codíra. Now they are cowardly scavengers. The blackbirds were similarly affected. Cowards, scavengers, and evil._

_Rats, weasels, stoats, ferrets, and feral cats all became greedy beasts that search for bloodlust and plunder. Shadows of the noble ones they used to be._

_Wildcats, sables, and wolverines were overcome with lust for power. They were only content if they were first, and as such, they almost drove themselves extinct. Pine martens were similarly affected, but they were more able to just accept a high power, if not first._

_Badgers like myself and my father did not get off bad. Instead, most of the time we remained noble and brave. Our sense of duty became stronger, however, and something strange happened. When our blood is roused, we become cruel beasts overcome with a more intense bloodlust than any known; we call it the Bloodwrath. Goats were similar, but without the Bloodwrath. To our misfortune, we participated in so many wars and battles that came after this, and almost drove ourselves extinct._

_Foxes came as the spell intended. Power-hungry, sly, clever, cruel, cunning, deceitful, powerful, ambitious, and deceiving, like Xeymar._

_There is some hope. Xeymar created a powerful emerald that will remove the effects of the spell. I know a rat that did this. But I chose not to. For... reasons. There is more hope. If the heir of those generals I mentioned (and my heir, who would be my father's heir) would be too use this emerald to free themselves, or the flame would be put out, we would be saved._

_I have created a fortress in Salamandastron, the spell ended its flow of magma, with the help of freed toads. I will hold it to protect the lands against the vermin, and with the help of Bren and other hares._

_This is my tale._

_Arbor Brock"_

**The North Coast**

Verane the otter through her dagger. Her aim was spot-on; it caught the gull right in the eye. The renowned otter knife thrower laughed heartedly..

"Haharr! Krudeblade and Fenna, get a fire going. Marko, take the rest to catch some fishes. All except you, Deyo. Keep watch for some dirty vermin."

The otters nodded and ran to do their tasks. Krudeblade dropped some firewood on the ground as Verane threw another knife, catching a gannet.

"I can see Salamandastron. If we walk through the night we'll make it there."

Verane nodded. "You're right. Fenna, what do you think?"

The otter twirled her blade. "Aye! Let's march."

"We'll see what Marko and the others think. We'll have some nice food, so it wouldn't be on an empty stomach."

Verane got another gull and Krudeblade and Fenna started a roaring fire. Marko and the others returned with a score of fish.

Krudeblade poured hotroot on the food and they dug in. The Rogue Crew were voracious eaters. Stuffing their faces with food, they through away their scraps.

"Attack! A-"

Deyo came running. An arrow went through his throat, and his corpse fell on the fire.

"Get your weapons!" called Verane.

Hundreds of blue vermin were marching forward, shouting their warcry. "Kam-a-tay-a! Kam-a-tay-a! Vengeance! Vengeance!"

"There's to many! Run!" shouted Verane.

The otters shook their heads. It was against the Rogue Crew way to run. The otters charged at the blue vermin, swinging their axes. Fenna fell, a sword in her gut and a throat in her teeth.

An otter called Argu swung his axe, taking out a weasel and a rat. He shouted his final war cry as he plunged into the dark blue horde. "Heeeeeeeeylaaaaaahoooooooooo!"

The Rogue Crew members slowly began to fall, each taking a dozen blue vermin with them. "Capture them!" called the leader, a maroon wildcat with wild eyes and yellow fangs.

"We need to run!" shouted Verane, last with Marko and Krudeblade. A great net fell upon them before they had a chance.

Ferociously Krudeblade slashed at the net until he was freed. He ran at the vermin, swinging his great axe. Bleeding from dozens of wounds he finally fell, crushing a weasel to the ground and two rats caught on his axe.

Kamataya strutted up to the two surviving otters. The mad wildcat laughed. "I will get my information! Yes, then the mountain will be mine, and I can kill Vafír!"

Marko and Verane looked at each other.

ooooooooooooooo

Alfar Miggory was practicing with his Katana. slashing it downwards, he noticed a prone figure lying on the shore. He ran forward, hoping the tide wouldn't sweep the figure away. He was a young male sea otter with a large beard ferocious axe.

"Waaaaaater..." he croaked.

Alfar nodded and began to drag him. But he thought better of it. The otter was bleeding from a score of wounds, sand would infect it. Hefting the otter on his back, the lanky hare almost fell over. He gasped. How could he carry him all the way to the mountain. Nevertheless he trudged on, hoping some other hare would see him.

His wishes were granted as Brigadier Krumlo Bristlefur returned from his morning run.d

"'Lo, young un. That otter looks a little 'eavy, wot!"

Alfar gave a tired nod and a grimace. Bristlefur nodded and ran over, easily lifted the otter off his back.

"It's a good thing you exercise, but aren't you fit enough?" asked Alfar as the graying began doing a job.

"Hah! Fit means adequate, wot! I strive for more than that! That's 'ow com I've lived so long, wot wot!"

Alfar chuckled. The brigadier was old, but tougher than any hare he'd ever met. Even the trader who'd given him the katana, Amamo, had never met one as tough. But despite his old age, Bristlefur was also the strongest hare he'd ever met. They quickly made it back to Salamandastron.

"Waaaater..." croaked the otter again.

Alfar nodded and ran off, quickly returning with a glass of cold clear water. He poured it down the grateful otter's dry throat.

The otter smacked his lips. "Thank ye. Ye can put me down."

Bristlefur let the otter go. He was a bit wobbly on his legs, but walked. "Let's take you to get patched up, wot!" exclaimed the ancient hare. "Where did you get all those cuts?"

"Vermin... blue vermin..." muttered the otter. "I'm Krudeblade."

**Kamataya's Camp, North Coast**

Branos sat happily in the bamboo cage the vermin had built for slaves. He delighted in the sunlight, something he hardly remembered except for the small hole his oar went through. He gleefully welcomed the two new otters.

"Hallo! I'm Branos Tuffqwill. Welcome to being a slave!" exclaimed the hedgehog as he held out his paw.

The two otters gave him strange looks and didn't accept the paw, instead going to the corner of the cage.

"We aren't slaves. They're going to torture us. Just sending us here so they can get their stuff from the ships," said Marko

"Oh, that's too bad. I though ye'd stay. Ah well."

Verane shook her head. The hedgehog was quite the strange one. "Hmm... I wonder how they'll torture us."

ooooooooooooooooo

A stoat captain called Earburn sat on a rock cleaning his claws with a dagger. "Murgu! Fedge! Are ye ready?"

Murgu and Fedge were identical ferret twins that had been the official torturers for the Blue Hordes for years. They had stringy gray hair, wild eyes, hunched backs, and sharp brown teeth. There voice was odd, a bit scratchy, with a highland accent that sometimes broke through, and finished each others' sentences.

Fedge began. "Arr, it be-"

"Ready. Bring-"

"The otters. We'll-"

"Make 'em talk. Ach, they'll be-"

"In trouble. Huhu! We'll make-"

"'Em talk. Haharrharr!"

"Aharrharrharr!"

Earburn rubbed his forehead. "Well, then I'll go get 'em."

The stoat captain ran off, then returned a couple minutes later, he returned, a rope around the neck of the two struggling sea otters. "'Ere they be. Do as ye wish, short of killin' them."

The ferrets laughed, throwing back their stringy gray hair. "Aharrharrharr! Haharrharrharr! Aharrharrharrharrharr!"

Earburn returned to his rock and continued cleaning his claws. Moments later he jumped as heard the dreadful cries of the otters.

ooooooooooooooooo

Kamataya sat on a wooden throne brought from the ships. Laughing villainously in front of the two Rogue Crew otters, she prepared for interrogation.

They both had a double ended sharp fork between their chin and chest, held by a neck loop. If either of them let their head relax, it would stab through their chin and chest. Marko's body felt loose; he was stretched from two poles he was nailed two. He kept whimpering as Murgu and Fedge kept throwing salt on the holes in his paws. Verane was crying. The two ferrets had given her some foul concoction that made her see terrible things. All the vermin she had killed were coming back to haunt her, killing her family and her friends. She was chained and could not help. Her right leg below her knee had been painfully split off and she almost died of blood loss.

Kamataya laughed. "Well done, Murgu, and you Fedge. I was worried you wouldn't be able to break two hardened sea otters. But you really outdid yourself."

The ferrets beamed. "Thank yer,-"

"Yer majesty."

Kamataya grinned and threw a fried fish two the hunch-backed ferrets, who ravenously devoured it. The wildcat queen turned her attention to Verane and Marko. "Well, what can ye tell me?"

Marko scooted back. "We were just comin' teh see if there was anythin' to be excited 'bout, that's all."

Kamataya frowned and spat on one of Marko's pawholes. The hardened sea otter that loved battle and violence whimpered in fear and pain. "Tell me! The real reason you came! And everything you know about yon mountain!"

Marko cried out as Murgu threw powdered hotroot in his left eye. "Aaaagh! Please! No! I was tellin' the truth!"

Verane felt blood run down her chin as the double-edged fork sunk in. Kamataya scowled. "Take those things off them. I don't want them dead, at least not yet."

The ferrets nodded and quickly undid the neck loops. "Yer should be-"

"Lucky."

Kamataya scowled again. "Now! What do you know about the mountain!"

"A badger rules it! And there's a lot of hares! Please! No!" He cried as Fedge started cutting at his cheek with a sharp dagger.

"Murgu! Give the other one a cure so she can tell me what she knows!"

The ferret nodded obediently a poured a vial of purple liquid down Verane's throat. The otter blinked twice then started moaning as she realized that half her right leg was missing.

"YOU! What can yeh tell me about the mountain!"

Verane whimpered and backed away. "I won't- Aaaah" She backed away as Fedge came up with a green liquid. "I'll tell ye! I'll tell ye!"

Kamataya relaxed. "Good. Now talk!"

Verane whimpered. "There's eight-score hares guarding the place, each one trained to fight. And a big badger called Brawblade rules."

"Where do you enter?"

Marko answered as Murgu came with more salt. "To the south! It's well-guarded. And there's an entrance at the top of it."

Kamataya laughed. "Earburn, send 'em to the rest of the slaves. Murgu, Fedge, good job. Tell the cook ye get extra rations, I know we're gettin' low."

The ferret twins laughed and ran off. As Earburn and three others roughly helped them walk, Verane and Marko cast sorrowful looks at each other. _What had they done?_


	13. Chapter XII

**The Gatehouse**

Jaws dropped. Eyes widened. Heads were put in paws. Heads were thrown back in a long sigh. Whistles were blown.

"This explains...quite a lot," said Zeela slowly, biting her lip.

The others nodded. As the tale sunk in, Mervo began to feel excited. "So we could save vermin? All of them?"

His excitement spread.

"Ho urr, us'ns jus gotta put owt yon foire," said Foremole.

Brother Ruford shook his head. "Arbor said that was virtually impossible. Granted that means it _is _possible, I think we'd have a better better bet with that second option. We get every one of the heirs, I'm pretty sure that means descendants, to free themselves with that emerald he talked about."

"The only problem is, Ruford, that those listed were vermin, with the exception of Iro and ummm... does anybody know what a goat is?" asked Posy.

The others shook their heads. "Maybe they're extinct. And if so, then we don't actually need the goat heir. But what about the others? What if they have none? We would have a problem," said Sylva.

"Well," began Darrow. "Let's get to work! We'll comb the whole gatehouse for any mention of the lot. Let's go!"

**Mossflower Woods**

Tench groggily opened his eyes. He was tied, his back to a tree. He felt weak, as if he had been running all day, though he wasn't exactly tired. The otter smacked his lips as he assessed the situation. _I was captured! No doubt I'll be ransomed, or interrogated. But they won't get anything from me, matey! No sir! Hahahahahahah... wait a second... oh no._

Fyron came walking up calmly in front of him. The ferret was followed by followed by five vermin, a rat, a weasel, and three ferrets. Each had a blade on the neck of a bankvole. They'd been unable to part with their home and go to Redwall, and had payed for it dearly when the vermin found them.

Fyron grinned. "You tell us 'ow many are in the abbey, how good they are with fighting, and what species. Or they pay." The ferret flicked his sword towards the bankvole family.

The voles looked at him with sadness. Tench bit his lip and kept silent. _What was he to do? He couldn't let these voles die. But he couldn't tell them what they wanted. Aaaargh!_

Tench made his decision. "Wait! I can't tell you. Yet."

The rat nicked the youngest vole with his sword. The child began to wail in pain and fear.

"You match Mervo's description. You were the one that caught him. But then you let him escape. No doubt yer chief made yeh do this. But yeh don't have to, matey."

The rat began to make a move to kill his vole. Fyron held up his paw and began speaking. "Don't try mind games with me, otter."

"I'm not. You and yer vermin could become good beasts. Make a life at the abbey. Think, you'll no longer have to do what somebody else tells you to do, though you will have to follow our basic abbey rules. Not to kill, not to harm. You will have a choice on how to live. You could find friends, eat good food, and have peace and joy."

Fyron bit his lip. The other vermin lowered their weapons half a centimeter. If Tench wasn't tied up he'd have a chance to free himself.

"Others have done it in history. A rat called Blaggut, and another called Grubbage. They were happy at Redwall. You could be too."

The vermin began to look intrigued, but also as if they were having an inner battle with themselves. Blood trickled from Fyron's lip. If Tench handled this correctly, he might do well. Thinking of what his Uncle, the Skipper, taught him in diplomacy wouldn't help. He chuckled as he recalled Skipper's voice.

_"Diplomacy? Ah, yes. A very good strategy for diplomacy is threats. If you have a blade at their throat, they'll do anything you want."_

Of, course, his uncle had no sense of humor any more. He was a grim beast that spent his time in the cellars, drinking ale and wine, waiting for his chance of revenge. Tench shook his head and turned his focus back to the situation. It was time for bribery.

"No doubt you're hungry. That's probably because you have such a large force that it would be quite difficult to keep 'em all well fed. And yer out in the woods. Tsk, tsk."

"We know what yer doin', otter!" shouted the weasel. Tench was delighted to find some strain in his voice.

"At Redwall we got prime conditions. A nice big feather bed with fluffy blankets and a nice roof..." The weasel dropped his weapon another half centimeter.

"And food! I'm not kidding, amazing, matey! Giant cheeses with chopped nuts and great ole trifles with strawberry or cherry or blueberry or gooseberry or any other berry. Roasted Chestnuts lathered in honey and sugar, scones with honey spread over and nice cream..." The vermin began licking their lips and lowered their weapons a bit more, with the exception of Fyron. "And the drinks! Elderberry wine, October Ale, Strawberry Fizz..."

_Swish!_

A bankvole fell dead in the weasel's arms. He was the father, the other voles had a shocked expression. Fyron's sword was in its throat. Even the other vermin looked shocked.

"Now!" shouted the ferret. "Tell us what you know, or they'll die!"

Tench gaped. What _could _he do? The otter sighed. "Log-a-log-a-log-a-log!"

Fyron had a puzzled expression on his villainous face. "What are ye sayin'? I want te know 'bout the chaps who live in the abbey?"

"We call this when we're building. Yeah. Log-a-log-a-log-a-log-a–"

Fyron had a similar diplomacy idea to Skipper. He put his blade at Tench's throat. "Answer me truthfully and straightforward or another vole goes! How many are in the abbey?"

Tench bit his lip, as the ferret did. "Errr... Ten."

"Don't be foolish!" He swished his sword. A ferret wordlessly cut the throat of the mother vole, who fell dead. The young ones began wailing and squirming.

"Fine! Tenscore an' twenty four! Mebbe more! Why are we in this war?" Tench felt tears well up in his eyes. He rhymed when he felt bad

"And the species? No games, now." Fyron pushed his sword closer to Tench's neck.

"Oh, that's a chore! Well, mostly mice, what's this for?. A good bit of 'edge'ogs, an' sum moles, obviously make up the core. A few squirrels and otters, too, and probably a bit more."

The ferret bit the other side of his lip, the one that wasn't bleeding. "That's not so bad. Sure, the squirrels an' otters might show a stand, but the others? Hah! Tie the voles up and stay to guard. I'll go tell Darkblood our information?

The other vermin nodded and laughed.

**The Gatehouse**

"_Haway the Braw is a war-cry of the highlands!_" called out Darrow. "Here's a lead!"

"But remember, Haway wasn't a general that took with the spell. We don't need his descendant."

"Your right, but we should still research him. There might be a mention of one of the other generals in the books."

"I believe you're right! Read on!"

And so they combed through the books, trying to find everything. Erzvin's books proved to be invaluable.

"Aha! _Garro the Great, first of the wolverine emperors, began his empire on the western coast– _Salamandastron, of course– _After a stinging loss at the hands of the badger lord Arbor Brock, he sailed across to the Land of Snow and Ice! _Gulo was a descendant of Garro!"

Damping Erzvin's previous joy, Uggo said, "Wasn't Gulo killed?"

"Oh... yes..."

"Wait," said Zeela. "What about Ansgar and Bjart?"

Erzvin's joy returned. "Yes! Ansgar and Bjart were twins, so they dueled for the walking stone. Ansgar was thrown into the ice water, but he survived, hijacked a boat, and sailed far south to start his empire!"

"Hmmmm, Mervo–"

A tall otter ran through the door. "Tench's been captured!"


	14. Chapter XIII

_**Bat Mountpit, Memories of Castle Floret**_

**"Run! They're here!" shouted Truffen XII. The squirrelking was bleeding from a dozen wounds, but still fighting, until a sword pierced him through the heart. The noble king fell to the stone floor, fighting to the end.**

**"Papa!" wailed Mina, who was only three seasons old, as she was carried away from the mêlée by her nanny, Yulana.**

**"To Eric's-"**

**The queen fell short, an arrow through her throat. A rat holding a bow laughed wickedly.**

**Triana fell to the ground, trying to get to the tunnels, a rock hit her head. Regulon ran to protect her, swinging his sword. The vermin came in force, slaying both of them.**

**Viola slashed with her katana, but a ferret disarmed her and sliced at her neck.**

**Father, dead. Mother, dead. Triana, Regulon, dead.**

**He felt the strong paws of a weasel called Scumtoes shove him to the ground.**

**Darkblood, Tharius's old friend, was standing over him. "He wants this one alive, but injure him as much as you want!" the rat called. He swung his sabre, scarring his face.**

**"Tharius!" called Truffen XIII. The squirrel pierced Darkblood in the shoulder. The black rat ran, and Truffen stayed, bravely defending his fallen brother, taking out a score of vermin before going down to a sabre.**

**Silvertung's sabre.**

**Darkblood had gone for easier prey. He stabbed Yulana in the throat, and the nanny fell to the ground. Crazed laughing erupted from the black rat as he picked up the young Mina and smashed her delicate skull against the ground.**

**"NO!" shouted Tharius, struggling under Silvertung's footpaw. The fox grinned and spat at his face.**

**"Coldfur, Zäev, bind him. And be as rough as you can."**

_**oooooooooooo**_

_**Valley of Arostiv**_

**Tharius sat on the grass, breathing deeply.**

**"Are we supposed do what you're doing?" asked Bluenose.**

**Tharius chuckled. "Yes, it's supposed to relax you, at least that's what my mum allus said."**

**"Ah."**

**The three vermin sat on the grass and began copying the squirrel. After a few minutes, Tharius asked, "Better?"  
**

**Deadeye answered. "Ummmm… Does it count if I no longer wish for everybody to die?"**

**The other three laughed rambunctiously.**

**"Hey, it works!" called Vafïr. "Deadeye's right! I no longer wish for everybody to die!"  
**

**Laughter continued.**

**"Well, three vermin and a squirrel, never thought I'd see the likes of that before," came a quiet voice.**

**The three vermin and a squirrel turned quickly to see an aged hedgehog with a beard and ice-blue eyes observing them. He held a tall staff in his left paw. "Though I did predict something like it."**

**"Hmmm?" asked Tharius quizzically. "You're not going to run around trying to beat us with yon stick? I mean, it's happened before."**

**The hedgehog shook his spiked head. "Nay. I know your motives, young one. I listen... and I understand."**

**"You've been-"**

**"Nay, I was not eavesdropping upon you. But those I listen to-" He waved his paw far across the sky- "Know all."  
**

**And with that, the hedgehog walked away.**

**The friends shook their heads. "Well," said Bluenose. "He's mysterious."**

**They chuckled.**

_**ooooooooooooooooo**_

_**Southern Mossflower**_

**"Bluenose! Run!" shouted Deadeye.**

**The weasel was shivering in place. Four adders were slithering through the camp, snapping at the friends. Tharius and Vafír had their swords out, and Deadeye aiming his bow. Bluenose was standing still, a paw on his dagger, fear on his face.**

**Deadeye pierced a speeding adder with his arrow. The green snake stopped abruptly, not to slither again. Vafír and Tharius took an adder together, slashing it to death. Deadeye shot another arrow, catching a red one at its neck.**

**The last one, pure black, shot at Bluenose. White fangs glistening it prepared to strike.**

**Biting his lip and closing his eyes, Bluenose pulled his dagger out of its sheath and stabbed the adder's jaw. The blacksnake went limp and the weasel dropped his dagger. He fell to the ground, and the others went to help him.**

**"Wot 'appened?" asked Deadeye.**

**Bluenose shook his head. "When I was young my parents were killed by snakes like them. I just can't stand them. I freeze, even at a grass snake. But since that fight, I think my phobia's gone. And I feel like..."**

**"What?" they all asked.**

**"I'm free..."**

**_oooooooooooo_**

_**Castle Floret**_

**"Yaharr! I'm the dread pirate Coldeyes!" shouted Tharius under his weasel disguise.**

**His mother, pregnant with Mina, laughed. "Not bad. You did a good job."**

**Truffen XIII laughed. "Aye. His classes with Caro certainly paid off."**

**Caro was an old mole that was a master when it came to disguises. Tharius took his disguise classes, though his siblings all chose classes of diplomacy  
**

**"Oh jeez!" called Viola, walking into the room. "I thought you were a weasel, Tharius. Caro certainly did a good job."  
**

**"Thanks, but I only can do a weasel. And maybe a stoat if I spend a good bit more time.**

**"Ah. So what will you plan to do with your new talents?"**

**Tharius chuckled.**

_**ooooooooooooo**_

_**More Memories came to Tharius. Good, bad, he remembered.**_

"Tharius? Tharius, what happened?"

The squirrel blinked a few times. "What? What just? Huh?"

His vision focused and he saw Rockwing, Whitefur, Anera, Hurqu, Aar Krullen, Amamo, and Brockhammer looking down at him.

"You just... fainted... after I asked you if you were-"

"Yes! I remember! I remember everything. And Vafír will die!"

"Tharius..." began Hurqu. "What's-"

The squirrel leaped from his bed and began running from them. "You will die, Silvertung! I will find you!"

The massive form of Nightshadow landed in front of Tharius, blocking him from leaping into the High Cavern. "Go back, tree-jumper. You cannot fly. Stripedog, take him to his bed."

Obediently, Brockhammer easily lifted Tharius and dropped him in the bed. "Tharius, tell us what's going on," asked the badger.

The squirrel bared his fangs. "Not until Silvertung is buried deep beneath the earth. Let me go, stripedog!"

The badger shook his head. "How will we convince you?"

"I have an idea!" called Aar Krullen. "We'll talk about our past, then you tell us yours! My old mam allus did that!"

All the others gave him curious looks, but Aar Krullen was already going.

"I was born far, far in the south, you know. There was hardly any forests. Just great grasslands and deserts. Blazing hot, y'know. I was in a great tribe, and one of the best fighters. Along with being a smith, carpenter extraordinaire, and champion scoffer, I was also great with people, so I became captain-in-chief of our tribe. Jolly good position, y'know. Lots of vermin, though. I mean hundreds of the chaps in just a common band. So I had a pretty hefty position. But I was good at it.

"Then this big empire came. Right now I say they were from the south, but then I said they were far north. We weren't so worried.

"But in just half a season the empire had increased its power tenfold. We heard from some refugees of the Isle of Irgash it was coming here next.

"So we prepared. We became incredibly strong. Stronger than any tribe in the south. Refugees came to us and we trained them. Thousands of us were unbeatable fighters.

"Then in just a day we were defeated. Killed or put in slavery." Aar Krullen rubbed his eyes. "They thought I died, so I was left, bleeding to death. I slowly nursed myself back to health, and as soon as I was ready, I journeyed North, where I heard they were keeping my tribe as slaves. On my way I met Amamo, and then..."

"I'll take it from here," began the brash rabbit. "So I come from the east. Great place there. We killed all the vermin except the ones to put to slavery, so there's plenty of peace."

The others gave him a strange look.

"Everybody there is incredibly talented. I mean, we're all great smiths and fighters. But when everybody's great, then nobody's great. So I journeyed to the less talented west. There I made a fortune selling weapons. Returning from Salamandastron rich, I met Aar Krullen. We wandered aimlessly until we met Brockhammer, who insisted we return to Salamandastron. So we hiked all the way back to the Great South Stream, sailed it, got lost in the rapids, and now we're here. Brock?"

"Ah yes, I suppose it's my turn. My father, Brocksword Wildstripe, and my mother, Via Wildstripe, raised me in the east borderlands. My father was a minor lord there, we lived well. The northlands was lawless, but there isn't much real threats there." Brockhammer looked at the floor. "Then a disease came, from the south. A deadly thing. My parents were sending me to Salamandastron, but they were needed to help those who could not themselves. On my way I was informed that them and their entire province was killed."

"Wow, Brock. That's not what you told us at all," commented Amamo insensitively.

The badger glared at him, and Aar Krullen sighed. Amamo backed off to the corner, then asked, "What about you, Hurqu. None of us 'ave seen a goat before. Tell us your tale."

The shaggy goat smiled. "Ach, 'tis a braw tale. Ah guess I 'ave tae tell ye. Ah hail from the North Mountains. Och, I miss the place, lots of 'ares and mah tribe. Ah was the bonny son of yon chief, mah pater Rawnor. A bonny ole life we lived, great battles every day. Ah had great friends, all lads that could defeat all of ye combined. But ah yearned for more. So ah left the tribe in the good hooves oh mah younger brother, a braw laddie called Arro, and traveled through the mountains south.

"Ach, ah had some great adventures. I ate with The Wild King Bloodwing MacPhearsome and his proud Lairds. I fought the Crows of the North, and beat the laddies, tae. So ah traveled farther south, with an unquenchable lust for adventure. Ah bit off a bit more than I could chew though, when ah challenged all the Painted Ones to fight me. Ha! 'Twas great to see their faces."

The others laughed. "Anera, 'ow 'bout you?" asked Amamo.

The mousemaid smiled. "I was an orphan, but I hardly knew my parents. I was rescued by Redwall Abbey, where Abbess Fern raised. She wasn't happy with me going. Maybe she was right. I didn't last two second on those rapids."

The others laughed. "Aaaaaaand... your turn, Tharius. Go on," urged Aar Krullen.

Tharius grimaced. "I guess I should tell you..."


	15. Chapter XIV

**Author's Notes:**

**Thank you to those who've reviewed! Book I may only have a few chapters left. Sorry to those who 'd like to see it, but I might not include the slaves' escape, I think with too much plots the story will go out of whack. It is possible I will show them, though, if demand is high enough. However, I will include the deleted scenes in a future collection of drabbles that is unwritten though planned, and it will be a much better account. They however, will be seen in this fan-fic later. Most definitely.**

**Onward!**

**The Swamplands**

"Rrrrreb! Intruders in Queendom Dragwa! Intruders!" shouted a fat toad in a throaty voice.

"Crrrrrk! Rrrrreb! Intruders! Intruders!" shouted the toads.

Trident bearing toads confronted Vafír's horde and the Wroots as they trudged through the dense swamps. The toad horde blocked them from continuing.

"Crrrroak! Enemies of Queendom Dragwa will die!" shouted the horde spokesman. "Who is your ruler!"

The white fox walked forward. Though he was covered in sludge and facing a horde of toads, he still looked proud and dignified."I am king here! I am no enemy of Queendom Dragwa! I want alliance!"

The toads looked a little uneasy. A few retreated back. It made no difference to the horde of hundreds of thousands of toads.

"Whitefox. He is whitefox. Bulgum?" asked the toad.

Vafír nodded. "Aye! I king and Bulgum!"

"Rrrrreb! Proof! Proof!"

The white fox grinned. Grabbing a hawthorn staff from the waiting Zäev, he plunged it into the earth. "I will not show you bulgum power until I am brought to Queen Dragwa!"

The toad frowned. "Rrrrreb! Call High Queen Dragwa!"

The toads that had retreated back returned, and behind them was a large female toad with a silver crown, the High Queen Dragwa.

"Show me Bulgum powers, whitefox! Crrrroak!" Her voice was pompous and slightly higher pitched then the toad spokesman, but not by much.

The white fox nodded obediently. "As you wish, High Queen Dragwa. Bloodtoe! Zäev!"

The rat and pine marten took out a glass bowl and filled it with swamp water. Out of the side of his paw, Zäev poured one of Vafír's invention, a liquid version of the toxic gases in the mine, into the the bowl.

Vafír lit the tip of the hawthorn staff on fire. The toads took a few steps back; toads are terrified of fire. Grinning, Vafír put the tip of the staff in the water.

Expecting the staff to be numbed, the toads leaped back when the water exploded with fire.

"Eeeeeh! Whitefox bulgum! Whitefox bulgum!" called the queen.

Vafír nodded. "Now that you know that, I have more to tell you..."

ooooooooooooooooo

Toads crowded around Vafír and Queen Dragwa's council, making sure nothing went wrong.

"Rrrrreb! Wadda ya want, whitefox bulgum?"

"I want your help. You command thousands and thousands. I wish to conquer yon mountain fortress, and with your toads' help."

"Crrrroak! Wad's inna it fer us?"

Vafír put his snout on where her ear should be. "What do you want?"

The toad queen shrugged. "Us toads not ambitious like vermins. We wish fer food or..."

"Owado! Owado! Owado!" called the toads.

Vafír smiled. "You will have plenty of food and Owado. When we conquer the mountain there be many places to get Owado."

Dragwa's eyes shone. "'Ow much?"

"Fifteen percent of the fishes we find a day, all prepared to your liking, and forty percent of the Owado we find a fortnight."

"Rrrrreb! Dragwa not know percents!"

Vafír sighed. "It's a lot. So you get fish and Owado. I know toads love seafish, but hate seawater."

Dragwa smiled, twisting her gruesome face. "For Owado and food!"

Vafír laughed. He surveyed the thousands he welcomed to his horde.

oooooooooooooooooooo

"Master Silvertung, why do we stay in the swamp?" asked Zäev over their chess game, moving his rook into the center..

Vafír moved his bishop, knocking the pine marten's rook off the board. "Because the toads won't survive on the shore, and they make up most of the army."

Zäev picked his rook up, wiping mud off it. He put it on the table, the moved his pawn forward. "So how will we conquer the mountain?"

Vafír moved his queen up diagonally in front of the pawn. "We'll bring the original horde up to the mountain to lay the groundwork for the siege, make sure we have enough food, have trenches, stop the from getting out, and I'll put my... plan out there."

Zäev greedily took the queen with his pawn. He threw it back, and it hit the tent flap and fell to the ground. "Ha!" Earning a glare from Vafír, his enthusiasm dropped and so did he, grabbing the chess piece and scrubbing it clean with his tunic, not noticing the smirk Vafír had.

Putting the queen down, he asked, "So what is your plan, then?"

"You'll see in due time," said the fox, taking the pawn with his bishop. "Checkmate. I'll see you tomorrow so we can discuss the trip from here to the mountain."

Zäev was trying to make sure it was checkmate while Vafír left the tent.

**Salamandastron**

"Whew! You were out all day, chap, wot wot wot!" called Alfar as Krudeblade came out of the healers room.

The bandaged sea otter laughed. "Haharr! Yer right. It's time to go find those blue hordes!"

As Krudeblade made his way to the exit, Alfar threw himself in front of him. "Wait! Yew can't take them on your own, especially in your state, chap!"

"I don't care, they'll pay!" the sea otter charged forward, then tripped and fell across the rocky passage. Brigadier Bristlefur came from his hiding place, swinging his swagger stick. "Well, chap, you want teh make 'em pay, wot? Well there's a much better way teh do it than getting yerself killed!"

The brigadier placed his footpaw on Krudeblade's back. "Now, if I were you, I'd go back to the Rogue Crew and get those chaps. After all, that was the original plan if anythin' went wrong, wot wot!"

Krudeblade sighed. "Alright. Then I'll go!"

"Tut-tut. Yer in no state fer travel, mate. I'll send our best gallopers. But yer all bandaged up and whatnot, nay, the mountain'll take care of yeh!"

Krudeblade shook the footpaw off and started running, followed by the two hares. The second he made it to the exit, two young hares barraged in, pummeling him to the ground.

"Sah!" called the first one. "We ran to the Cove and got the Rogue Crew, sah!"

"Aye aye, sah! They're swimming just behind us!" called the second hare.

"You must've ran hard! How did you do that in less than a day, wot?" asked the confused brigadier.

"Ah, no problem for us! Me and my brother are the fastest hares here, dontcha know!"

"My sister's right! We could run all the way to the east coast and back without breakin' a sweat, wot!"

A ghost of a smile appeared on Bristlefur's grim features. "Good. Now chaps, go get some food and take some rest."

As the two hares ran off, Bristlefur commented to Krudeblade and Alfar, "Harris and Feya De Mayne, twins and fastest hares on the mountain. I sent for them the moment that great lump of fur washed up.""

Alfar laughed. "Whew! And they brought quite a pong with them!"

Now it was Krudeblade's turn to laugh. "Well of course! They were with the Rogue Crew, after all!"

Bristlefur perked up as if he remembered something. "Oh yes! I must tell the cook that she'll need to make extra food if the Rogue Crew's coming!"

As the brigadier ran off, Krudeblade warned Alfar. "You might want to follow him, or be stampeded by us!

The hare took his advice and ran. Moments later, the great war-cry of the Rogue Crew could be heard. "Hooooooooooolaaaawheeeeeeeey!"

The Rogue Crew was in Salamandastron!


	16. Chapter XV

**This is the second to last Redwall Scene in Book I, The Empire Arrives!**

**The Gatehouse**

"_Gru the Powerful, a stoat lord bent on taking over the highlands, stopped by Haway the Braw. His son, Cru, escaped and fled south,_" called Erzvin.

"_Cru the Powerful, first ruler of the Isle of_ _Irgash_..." read Uggo.

"_Temveer the Bright was head of Mossflower University..._" shouted Posy.

"_Mossflower University was transformed into a foreboding castle, under tyrannical rule of Temveer the Cruel..._" exclaimed Mervo.

"_Dorro the Mighty took residence in the Northern Mountains!_" Zeela read.

Studying throughout the night, the weary researchers were beginning to get somewhere.

"_Brif the Mighty and Tera the Brave began a cat empire!"  
_

"_King Mortspear, distant descendant of the great emperor Brif the Mighty, took over the the highlands!_"

"_Brif Felis took his empire to sea after a defeat at the hands of Rordan the Fighter!_"

"Hurr... Briffer Feelis, Riggoo Feelis, 'e took over that oiland!"

"You're right! And Mortspear, I remember mention of him in Russano's Brocktree!"

"We could find a descendant! Gingivere survived!"

"You're right. We could!"

"_Crumdor IV, Lord of Irgash, was killed and taken over by Razzid Wearat. He was descended from the first lord of Irgash, Cru. His son, Crumdun, is an incompetent flop._"

"Hold on, I've heard the name Crumdun before! He was in my time!"

"So've I! He survived, didn't he?"

"Aye! His son or grandson probably lives here in Mossflower!"

Erzvin set the scroll on the desk. "Aaaargh! I wish this darn badger was a bit clearer in his words! We know too little!"

"You're right, but we're getting somewhere. A descendant of Gingivere or Mortspear, and a descendant of this stoat called Crumdun," said Zeela soothingly.

"You're right," replied Erzvin.

Brother Ruford sighed. "But how do we get all of them? And we still need to find out what Codíra is."

Mervo nodded, but before he could add to the mouse's observance, a squirrel came bursting into the gatehouse. "The vermin are back!"

ooooooooooooooo

Foremole's homely face poked out of a hole in the Earth. "Burr aye, us'n's 'ave made a tunnel!"

Mervo sighed and leaned against a barrel of wine. Why was he here, in the dark cellar with wailing dibbuns, elders, or others who couldn't fight? Maybe he couldn't lift a sword, but he could help with strategy! No, he had to stay in the cellars where it's safe, and the moles have an escape tunnel ready. Nobody ever asks him about things. He was young and undersized, but asides from his parents and the Wiltuds, he was a dumb as a Dibbun. If somebody asked him, he would have a great defense strategy ready!

He would base his idea off the abbeybeasts defense against the sable's horde, but instead of putting earth against the outside of the walls, he would place it against the inside, so the vermin couldn't crawl up! Yes it would be a bit inconvenient to them, the loam blocking activity, but all's well that ends well.

He looked into the escape tunnel, but Foremole held up a paw. "Burr, No goin' in until 'mergensee. Underground cavern, we found. Dangers may lurk, burr aye."

Mervo nodded and walked back to the barrel, and was approached by a squirrel infant called Ruggle, younger brother of Holly, followed by some others. The squirrel held some strawberry cordial in front of Mervo's face.

"'Ere Merro. 'Ave some corjul!"

Mervo sighed. "I'm not thirsty."

"Have some!" squeaked Ruggle, shoving the cordial to Mervo's snout.

Sighing, the young fox swiped the cordial and took a sip. Then he felt something wriggling in his mouth and spit the cordial, spraying it everywhere. A few worms burrowed away into the earth.

The dibbuns rolled on the floor laughing. "Heehee! Nerdo Mervo drinko wormo!"

Eyes flaring, Mervo bared his fangs at the dibbuns growling. "You impertinent little rip! Why you-"

The dibbuns screamed and ran to the other ones in the cellars. The mice and squirrels and others comforted the young ones. Going to sulk in the corner, Mervo heard Holly comforting her younger brother.

"It's okay. The mean vermin can't hurt you. You're safe with me." The impertinent squirrel looked over the crying Ruggle's shoulder, glaring at the young fox.

Mervo growled. He would show these fools. He would show them he was better than all of them!

ooooooooooooooooooo

Darkblood was backed by the massive wolverine Griv Beastcrusher, and the proud Fyron, who was puffing his chest to show off his new general's badge

Griv growled. "Why must we go through all these petty things? We could crush these woodlanders with your new invention."

Darkblood shook his head. "We must give them a chance. Remember, we wish for slaves. And we still have... my invention."

Griv yawned. "Give them blood and vinegar! I'll kill the lot of them!"

Darkblood rolled his eyes. "Anyway, we're doing it, now, no questions."

Griv frowned and mumbled something unintelligible. Pretending he didn't notice, the rat called out to the abbey. "Who is your leader?"

A female mouse walked up. Darkblood smiled as he saw two old hedgehogs shooting glares at the mouse. This was better; they did not trust their leader. "I am Abbess Fern! What do you want, vermin?"

Darkblood chuckled. "I will not hide my motives! I wish to take over your abbey and keep you as slaves! But I doubt you'll take my offer!"

Fern raised an eye brow and shook her head. "No, of course we won't."

"I agree with you. I would not give myself into slavery in your position."

Fern sensed she was being led into a trap, but didn't know another way to answer. "Aye! I'd die protecting the abbey!"

Darkblood nodded. "I'd die for my master! Even if I had children, my master'd come first."

So here was the trap. The abbeybeasts were her children, the abbey was her master. The mouse bit her lip, trying to reply. She was thankful when Skipper interrupted.

"Hah! I see what game you're playing, rat! Know that Redwall will prevail, and you will be defeated! Go off, we've survived worse lots than you! Or you will all die by my hands!"

Darkblood felt his temper rising. "You fools! You will all die!"

Friar Durglo was a fat dormouse. The jolly fellow was watching the seen with pleasure, laughing as he saw the rat getting angrier. Taking out an old tomato from his apron, he ran up to the top of the wall and heaved it at Darkblood. His aim was off, but he found a more enjoyable and larger target. The wolverine's burst with anger as the fruit splatted against his arm, and he ran at the wall, hammering it with his fist and jumping, trying to reach the top. Friar Durglo rolled on the ground with mirth.

Furious, Darkblood shouted, "You have until tomorrow morning to surrender! If you do not, I will activate my invention..."

A recently built trebuchet was pushed forward by vermin, and Durglo's laughter stopped. The projectiles were lined up, hollow wooden spheres.

Darkblood smirked as he walked to a projectile. "Allow me to explain. My invention will launch these at your abbey. Inside them there are two compartments, that will merge when the projectile breaks against the wall. One holds water. The other holds a kind of metal my master discovered, that's reaction to water is quite... explosive. So, you surrender tomorrow, or I'll test out my clever invention. Oh yes, if it helps..."

Fyron wagged his paw, and four vermin walked forward, with their blades against the necks of Tench and the young dormice.

Darkblood took his turn to laugh, though his was much more malicious. "We'll camp here. If you change your mind, tell me."

The abbey went silent with fear.

**Author's Note:  
****I'm pretty sure I made some mistakes! If you notice any, please leave a review!**


	17. Chapter XVI

**Bat Mountpit**

"So you were sent to find me?" asked Tharius, trying to make sure he heard correctly.

"Yes."

"But you lost the sword of a dead guy?"

"The Sword of Martin the Warrior! And it's vital we find it!"

Brockhammer shrugged. "Why? I can make one exactly like it."

Anera shook her head. "This sword was made by the greatest smith of all the time, and out of the metal of a fallen star. Besides, it is vital to Redwall."

Brockhammer whistled. "I don't have a fallen star, but, I sincerely don't mean to brag, I'm the greatest smith since my ancestor, Boar the Fighter."

Anera gave the badger an exhausted look. "It _was _made by Boar the Fighter."

Brockhammer looked embarrassed. "Ah."

"So, we need to find it!" Anera looked at the bats, hoping for an answer.

Whitefur shrugged. "You didn't have a sword when you floated in here. It must be at the bottom of the stream."

Anera frowned. "No, that can't be it."

The albino bat shrugged. I don't know what to tell you."

The mousemaid looked crestfallen. "No! I can't be the one to lose it! No!"

The others didn't know what to say. Except Hurqu, who always had something to say. Even if it wasn't the right thing.

"Ach, me wee lassie, it was just a sword. Brockhammer can make yeh anawther one, it mayn't be as good, but 'tis better than naught."

Anera turned around, eyes angry and brimming with tears. "How would you know? All you care about is a good fight! You left your family because _you _wanted some fun! This sword was the most important thing to the Abbey, and I lost it!"

Backing away, the goat looked hurt and annoyed. "Och, ye wouldn't understand! Ah felt a pullin' teh do sum fightin' it's in mah blood!"

Anera scrunched her face. "Oh, so some mythical force is commanding you what to do? Is that it?"

Hurqu didn't look like he knew how to answer that question. Tharius thought the goat was actually contemplating if a mythical force was telling him what to do.

Anera went on. "None of you are from Redwall! You wouldn't understand!"

The mousemaid ran off through the complex tunnels and caverns, trying to find a place to hide.

ooooooooooooo

Findelo Gonfelin took a rest on the side of the Bat Mountpit. His tired legs gave up as he was hiking. Taking a scone out of his pack he took a bite, letting the flavor relax him. Taking out his lute, he began strumming a tune.

"Oh, where the sky is green and the rivers do floooow,

But when the third season comes the sky turn red,

As if it's all on fire, oooh,

Mossflower woods is my home,

Where I was young, but I did grooooow,

And with that my ambitions soared,

So I traveled far and wide, far, far and wide,

I regret it nought, but when home I goooo,

Mossflower Woods is the place!"

Laughing to himself, the mouse took another scone out and gobbled it. "Ah, this is the life. Trapped high up on a mountain and exhausted, but at least I got good food and my lute! Oh yes, and this sword."

Taking the beautiful sword from his belt, he admired its red pommel stone and shining blade. "Aye, I've never seen a weapon like this. Once I get in this mountain I'll need to return it to that pretty mousemaid if she's still alive. I'm no good at fightin', 'cept for my daggers."

Fingering his throwing knives and daggers, the mouse got up, put the sword in his belt, the lute on his back, and picked up his pack. Refreshed, he continued hiking up the mountain.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Standing at the top exit, Tharius and company thanked the bats for the hospitality.

"Och, how can we repay you, noble lord?" asked Hurqu.

Lord Nightshadow shook his head. "I require no payment. My bats will find the mousemaid soon, and then you can be off." With that, the massive bat flew off into the caverns, followed by his bats. Tharius, Hurqu, Amamo, Aar Krullen, and Brockhammer stood about idly, waiting to see what they would need to do.

Amamo yawned. "How long till those bats find a mousemaid in their own mountain?"

The others shrugged. "We don't know."

The rabbit tapped his footpaw. "Well I'm getting tired waiting here! Should we just leave?"

Brockhammer sighed. "No, Amamo."

"But it's boring! I wanna get going!"

"Amamo, you're acting like an infant."

The rabbit growled and pouted. "Humph! Well, don't blame me if we stand here until our legs break!"

The others rolled their eyes.

Many minutes later, Rockwing and Whitefur came out, escorting Anera. The bats where covering their eyes and trying to stick to the shade. Anera hardly acknowledged them, just looking into the blue sky.

"Soooo... Salamandastron?" clarified Tharius.

Anera gave a slight nod of her head. The others shrugged and began walking forward. Only a few steps in, Anera noticed a bright gleam and bolted towards it.

"The sword! The sword!" called Anera. The mousemaid hefted the blade from the earth. She ran back to the others and handed it to Tharius.

"I was supposed to give this to you. That was my job. And now I have."

Tharius gingerly held the incredible blade in both hands. It had a plain back hilt and a red pommel stone. The sword was razor-sharp, and much harder, stronger, and lighter than Brockhammer's blade. He held it up. It was as if he was just raising his hand, this sword felt natural with him. The hilt fit perfectly and the balance was exact. Holding it high above his head he shouted.

"To Salamandastron!"

**Salamandastron**

Lord Brawblade was a massive badger. His shoulders were broad, his arms muscled, and his face noble. He carried a massive sword that had once belonged to his ancestor, the legendary Lord Brocktree. He sat at the end of the dinner table in his great throne, with proud dignity he ate his fill, and his fill included five soups, seven stews, four deeper'n'ever pies, thirteen other pies, fourteen pastries, twenty-four scones, and much, much more.

But for all this, his appetite could not begin to compare the ravenous Rogue Crew. They wolfed down all food in reach, making it very difficult for Brawblade to communicate with Throkrig.

"So you say blue hordes are marching off to Salamandastron?"

"Aye–_scrumf, snarf –_so we gotta kill 'em an' save me–_harrumph, _this is some really good pie here– daughter and Marko."

Brawblade sighed. Holding up his sword, he said to it, "looks like you'll fight the blue hordes once again, by deadly friend."

ooooooooooooooooo

Something was troubling young Alfar Miggory. His solution to things like this would be to walk across the shore, which is what he did now. Ergo said vermin were coming from the south, but the Rogue Crew said they were camping north of Salamandastron. Was there two forces? Were they going to meet? Would there be a three-army stand-off?

Then a club hit him and he fell to the ground, senseless.

ooooooooooooooooo

"Tell us your plan, master!" called the vermin, eagerly waiting. Zäev threw the unconscious body of Alfar with two dead hare lookouts and a dead Blue Horde scout into the one finished trench.

The white fox raised his paws. "I will tell you if you silence yourselves!"

Immediately the shore went silent, not a sound could be heard. Glancing around, Vafír leaned close to the vermin and spoke quietly.

"Salamandastron will be hard to conquer. Vermin have tried it since it was created. We have the advantage with numbers, but so did Ferrahgo the Assassin, Ungatt Trunn, and others, and they all were killed. I want to take over that mountain! We will kill those hares! But to do that, we must think. Brains will let us win. So... this is the plan."

The vermin were in awed silence as Vafír pulled a glass vial out of his pocket. It was filled with a black murky liquid.

"This vial holds something much more deadly than a thousand swords. It holds a vicious plague known as Mortifer's plague. It had long ago died out at an abbey called Loamhedge. I traveled had somebody travel there and harvest it for me when I was planning to conquer the north. This disease will kill you within three days if you contract it, and it spreads incredibly fast."

The vermin continued the silence, though this time it was also in fear. One, Dethfur the rat, asked, "Wot if we get it?"

Vafír grinned. "I was hoping some clever one would ask that. Now, who remembers Tramun Josiah Cuttlefish Clogg XVII?"

There was an immediate show of paws. Clogg was a foolish stoat from the north that travelled south, and was put in the slave compounds. He was always carrying some white flowers he adored more than anything.

"Well," continued Vafír, "Those flowers he carried were actually extremely valuable. They were Icetor flowers, from the north mountains. They can cure anything."

There was an awed silence. Then the vermin erupted in raucous cheers. Vafír went up to Zäev. "Wake our prisoner. Tell him to give his leader a message."

ooooooooooooooooo

Brawblade and his longtime second in command General Tenac Durus sat in front of Vafír and Zäev, across a chess board. Vafír insisted they play a game of chess while they discuss. Brawblade refrained from the game, as did Vafír in order to keep up with the conversation. Intimidated by the great badger, Zäev quickly began losing and Tenac took the upper hand.

"You show up at my mountain, declaring war? Scum, you are a fool."

Vafír took a sip of his dark damson wine. "Drink. I do wish to take over your mountain to continue my empire. I have gained the support of all southern vermin, the Wroots, and the toads here. You are outnumbered, and my scouts killed a vermin that is from neither armies, which means you are threatened by two."

"You've probably poisoned me and my general's drinks. You are right, you have considerable forces, but the Long Patrol has defeated more formidable opponents."

Vafír smiled and poured a bit of the badger's wine into his own and took another sip. "'Tis not poisoned, and neither is your general's. 'Tis good. And none of your enemies were like me."

Tenac took a swig of the wine and moved his bishop, eliminating Zäev's lastrook. "So what's so bloomin' special about you, wot wot?"

"I'm smarter than any you've seen before. If you do not surrender, then–" the fox picked up Zäev's knight and jumped it across the board– "Checkmate."

The fox and his pine marten left the table, leaving a gaping hare and a brooding badger.


	18. Chapter XVII

**Author's notes:**

**Thank you to everyone who's reviewed, especially Grey Coincidence, Waycaster, and Sebias, which I guess are the only ones who have reviewed so far. Moving on...**

**This is the last chapter for Book I, The Empire Arrives. Book II will be Shout Your War-Cries, then Book III with The Battle of Seven Armies. I hope you enjoy this! (Just kidding. You'll hate me for all eternity once you read this). ;)**

**So, on we go!**

**Redwall**

The sun rose, like a beacon of hope, truth, and light to all those who dispair. The Redwallers looked up to the sky and watched it rise, filled with wonder.

Then they ran.

Most Redwallers, Skipper and his otters remained outside, with young brothers and sisters who'd been trained, and the squirrels. The very young and old retreated to the cellars, ready to retreat down Foremole's escape tunnel, or let in any who was forced to run from the battle. The exception was Old Uggo Wiltud and Posy Wiltud, who were in the gatehouse with the books and young Kell, a mousemaid with legs that were disabled from birth and used a wheelchair, and hence was unable to go down to the cellars.

Down in the cellars Zeela prepared herbs with the infirmary Sister Chamomile and Abbess Fern. At first she worried Chamomile would not like to work alongside a fox, but the mouse was surprisingly open to the help. Though she had so far not been much impressed by Fern, the Abbess had been very welcoming to them when others hadn't. Furthermore, the Abbess had a great knowledge of herbs, and the expansions she made to the gardens when she became Abbess were invaluable to having enough herbs to help a beast that was injured.

"Yarrow, Echinacea, Fenugreek..." the fox looked up from her herbs and was sad to see her Mervo standing in the corner, growling at the groups of whining Dibbuns. She walked over to him and placed a paw on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

The young fox shrugged off his mother's paw. Biting the inside of his cheek, he said, "I need to fight my own battles, mother."

Zeela nodded. Mervo would tell her when he was ready. Going back to the herbs she sighed. What would happen? Erzvin was up there, ready to fight. What if they lost the battle? The moles had an escape tunnel ready, but...

ooooooooooooooooo

Kell the mouse dug into the pie Uggo gave her. "Thank you, Mister Wiltud."

Uggo smiled. "It's my pleasure."

The mouse smiled at him, her face beaming with joy. "Thank you for being so nice to me, Mister Wiltud."

The hedgehog nodded and smiled again. And his heart filled with worry for the young mouse.

Then the malicious voice of that rat split the peaceful air.

ooooooooooooooooo

Skipper's eyes were blazing with anger at the vermin on the other side of the gate. He held two otter javelins, twirling them in his paws as he growled. Erzvin slashed with his sword, ready to fight, but nervous to the core.

"Woodlanders of Redwall Abbey!" called the loud voice of Darkblood. "The sun has risen. I give you one last chance of surrender."

The barking laugh of Skipper called out. "Hah! We'd rather eat our ears than serve you!"

"I can arrange that!" replied Darkblood, a laugh in his voice.

Growling, Skipper shouted, "Just try!"

ooooooooooooooooo

On the other side of the wall, Darkblood nodded to his horde. "Back it up."

The horde nodded, and pushed the trebuchet back. Of course, it would destroy them to shoot so close, so they pushed it back to Mossflower woods.

"Remember," commanded Darkblood. "Aim for the walls, we just want to breach them so we can send the horde. And try to choose captive over kill. We want slaves."

The horde nodded, though Griv just did a little grumble. Darkblood surveyed the ranks. He had pikes and spears in front, then swords, then axes, clubs, and hammers (and Griv Beastcrusher), then the bowbeasts. They would take the walls down, then charge through, taking over. Oh, those Redwallers would feel pain, yes indeed. "Prepare to fire!"

ooooooooooooooooo

The squirrel lookout shouted down to the Redwallers. "Hey! They're moving back! Mayhaps they're retreating!"

The first Trebuchet projectile hit the wall, blasting him and part of the wall to pieces. Gasps came from within the army. More projectiles came, blasting greater holes. The Redwallers gasped and were angered by this.

"They're destroying our home!"

"We used to have tea up there!"

"They'll kill us all!"

The vermin horde had not charged yet, but stray projectiles would hit Redwallers, blowing them to bits. Skipper didn't even flinch when one blew up right next to him, killing two otters. He held his paw up, telling the Redwallers not to attack yet. "Wait for them to reach us. We'll have the advantage on our own land!"

The Abbeybeasts nodded and prepared their weapons, fear on their faces. Projectiles came, blowing the wall to pieces. Little remained, and then the gate was destroyed.

The vermin charged!

The pikes and spears broke through the majority of the Redwallers, but they were no match for the Skipper of otters. Swinging his two javelins, he barraged the ranks, taking out the vermin. Ripping his javelin from the carcass of a dead ferret, he jumped at the horde of vermin.

Battling for his life, Erzvin kept trying to refrain from killing the vermin, keeping his grandfather's vow. He battered them with the flat edge of his sword and its hilt, making sure they weren't dead. Other Redwallers made a break for the cellars, out numbered by too many. Realizing the battle was lost, Erzvin followed them. An arrow hit him in the shoulder and he fell to the ground.

A rat stood triumphantly over the fox, laughing. Holding his sword up high, he plunged downward.

Just before the blade hit him a brown flash hit the rat, and there was a sickening crunch as it smashed the rat against the wall. Skipper turned away from it, then charged back into the mêlée.

"Skipper! We won't win! Most of us are dead or captured!" called the fox.

"Haharr! Go withou' me! I'll make these vermin pay!" replied the fox, cracking his javelin on a weasel's skull.

"No!"

"Lissen matey, Tench'll make my replacement. 'E's a good 'un. I'll go back to bein' Tunger the otter!"

"Tench was captured!" But the otter had already ran off at the vermin.

Biting his cheek, Erzvin ran off to the cellars.

Skippers smiled at the vermin, and his vision turned red. Stabbing, crushing, or whacking, Skipper barraged through the vermin, killing mercilessly. Fyron the ferret and Griv Beastcrusher charged at the otter, hoping to put a stop to him. Cutting down one of the last fighters, a squirrel, Fyron prepared to strike. "Ha! Die, otter!"

Laughing louder than the ferret, he stabbed Fyron with the splintered half of an otter javelin. The general seemed to gape, look down, then fell over, dead. Furiously, Griv attacked. He picked the otter up and crushed him against the earth, though even as he died Tunger was laughing, a nightmare that would haunt the surviving vermin.

ooooooooooooooo

The Abbeybeasts scurried down the moles' hole, escaping. Erzvin was the last one down, and caved the entrance in on the way out, so the vermin would not find them. They were thankful that the underground cavern the moles had found had air in it, otherwise they would suffocate.

The caver was actually a long buried room. There was an extremely old bed there, and an even older desk.

"Kotir!" called Mervo. "We must be in Kotir, and I think this would be the king or queen's chamber!"

"Aye," said Darrow. "This must."

The old ones and Mervo admired the place, while the younger just snorted in disgust. Mervo found a few parchments, but were dismayed to find they were in some old tongue.

"Well, we need to find a way to get out of this place," said Fern.

"Burr, us molers be a-makin' another tunnel," replied Foremole.

Sylva Wiltud the hedgehog opened the door. "There's some stairs here–waaaaugh!"

The old wood stairs snapped under the pressure and Sylva fell to whatever was down below. Her siblings, Darrow and Tinsel, ran to the doorway.

An old mouse elder put his paws on their shoulders. "She's gone, there's nothing you can do."

A blank expression on their face, the two hedgehogs made it to some old chairs at the desk. Mervo was hurriedly going through the parchments on the desk. "Come on, there's got to be something here! Aha!"

He pulled out an old document and read aloud, "_Dear Rordan, I wish to tell you. Do not listen to my father's plans! They will bring about our fall. Say no. Sincerely... _oh my."

"What is it son?" asked Erzvin, his shoulder covered in a yarrow tincture.

"This letter... it was written by Arbor Brock."

There was a silence, at least at the desk. Then Mervo began repeating to himself. "Codíra, Codíra, Codíra, Codíra. Codira. Codira? Codira. What if... Cotira? Kotira? Kotir..."

Darrow gasped and got off his chair, looking under it, he found an inscription.

"It's in badger script. I know a bit, father taught me. That first word... villainous? No, it says sinister, aye, sinister, then it gives the number seven. Umm... An' I think that next word is somethin' like stir... no, astir, that's it! And then it shows thirteen. So sinister seven, astir thirteen."

The others looked at the old hedgehog curiously. "What on earth does that mean?" asked Erzvin.

The hedgehog shrugged. "No clue."

Mervo looked at the inscription. What could that possibly mean. Hmm... Astir meant up, yes. So maybe it was giving directions. But sinister wasn't a direction, was it?

He put his head in his paws. Wait... yes, it was a direction! Sinister meant left!

He put his paw on the brick and started counting to the left, the others confused on what he was doing. "Five... six... seven! Okay, now up, or I think it means forward. One... two..."

Mervo reached the wall and started counting up the wall. He ended on a brick seven off the base and pressed it. He felt something come loose, so he pressed harder.

Erzvin saw what he was doing, though he wasn't sure why, so he went to help. Slowly the brick gave away, along with the bricks surrounding it. They fell down, and a strait passage from high to low was revealed. Mervo wordlessly walked into it, finding a ladder, and began climbing down. "I found a way out!"

A few other came after him, but not many. They were to old to climb down ladders, so they would wait as the moles dug a tunnel.

Mervo, Zeela, Erzvin, Darrow, Tinsel, Sister Chamomile, an otter called Rivertunnel, Bungle the mole, and a squirrel named Ilia reached the bottom. They found they were very deep, and a long tunnel stretched underground. Shrugging, Mervo began walking. There was no turning back now.

**The Gatehouse**

Young Kell was hiding behind a bookshelf as Uggo and and Posy fought to defend the gatehouse. They slowly began losing ground. Uggo wielded a powerful hawthorn staff, and posy had a dirk. They slowly lost ground as more and more vermin got into the gatehouse.

Panting, Uggo called, "We can't hold' em much longer!"

Posy nodded and stabbed a rat. "Aye, but let's do our best. For Redwall!"

Uggo shoved a bookshelf over, crushing five vermin. Whacking a weasel with his staff, he shouted, "For Redwall!"

Kell screamed. A scrawny little rat had snuck past the defenses and had a knife at her throat, laughing at her frightened face. Turning, Posy stabbed the rat in the gut, but it was two late. The knife had found its mark, and the scared expression was frozen on the small mouse's face. Crying, Posy turned to see as Darkblood had just entered the gatehouse.

"You let two old hogs stop you?" asked the black rat.

Screaming, Posy charged at Darkblood, slashing. The rat howled in pain as the blade ripped up his left shoulder, tearing through skin and tendons. Furiously, the pushed her against the wall and stabbed Uggo in the gut. The old hedgehog fell to the floor, clutching his wound. Turning, Darkblood cracked his sword's pommel on Posy's head, killing the old hedgehog. Letting her slump to the ground, Darkblood laughed wickedly, holding up his good arm. In his victory he failed to notice Uggo get up, holding his wound, and roaring like an angry wildcat.

He smashed his hawthorn staff against Darkblood's skull, shattering. The rat and Uggo fell to the ground at the same time, dead and dying.

Uggo put his paw under his late wife's chin. With his last breath he spoke his dying words. "Well, that was another adventure, wasn't it, Posybud."


	19. Chapter XVIII

**Replies:**

**Waycaster, you are right. I'll have to do something with Tharius, and probably change a lot of things about the villains.**

**Book II! I hope you enjoyed the last chapter. Kidding, I didn't even enjoy writing that. Well I did enjoy writing it until the very end. Shout your War-Cries begins...**

**Now!**

**Salamandastron **

General Tenac arrived at the infirmary, clutching his stomach.

"Eeeergh. I don't feel so great," said the hare, vomiting into a trash can.

The hare healer, Madame Rhys, wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, what a pong! Here lay down on that bed and tell me wot's been happening."

The hare obediently followed her instructions. "I've been feeling like this since last night, a bit after I came to that fox- oh, no! The fiend's poisoned me!"

Rhys looked at him. "Didn't his lordship say the fox tried the stuff himself?"

Tenac put his hand on his forehead. "Oooh! He tried some of Brawblade's! Not mine! Aargh!"

Rhys dabbed his sweating forehead and asked, "Why? I mean, he should have gone after the badger. Maybe it's a different kind of poison. What if it spreads to the rest of us. What if he gave you a sickness?"

"Oh, if that's true you're in trouble. But how in the name of Brock did you figure that out so fast?"

Rhys shrugged. "I always believe the worst, that way I'm prepared. I may be wrong, but it definitely looks like you got a right terrible fever, wot!"

Tenac groaned as she put some yarrow tincture across forehead. "Wot if it's a disease, and the whole mountain- Eeeergh!" The hare leaned over the bed and vomited again into the trash can.

Rhys sighed. "I told you, I'm always prepared. I have plenty of herbs for this. The only things I couldn't cure would be Dryditch, Mortifer's, or Norvis, and it would be impossible for that fox to get one of those."

Tenac sighed, feeling a bit better, then more thoughts came to his head. "Well, wot if it's some new disease, or maybe it's just poison, wot wot!"

Rhys shrugged. "I don't know. Anything could go wrong. Mayhaps it's just an unlikely and strong fever that you got at the wrong time."

"Well, I need to do somethin'! Wot if I don't survive! Wot if it is Dry Pit, or Morty's fur, or Novice."

"Then, my friend we are in trouble." Rhys said it so calmly that the hardened General felt fear run through him.

Tenac looked at the older hare. He had been in scores of battles against vicious searats, corsair vermin that would kill their comrades. Slaves dead from exhaustion. Comrades with their guts ripped out. He always assumed the healers were the weak ones. But now he realized they were the strongest of all the hares on the mountain.

Then he vomited again.

ooooooooooooooo

Branos Tuffqwill was a very strong hedgehog. Powerful and sturdy, and with high morale, the slavemasters whole-heartedly enjoyed that he would do whatever they asked, no questions. The result was they built a cage to keep a starved, weak prisoner in, not a strong one. But as Branos seemed loyal to them, they didn't care, not realizing the hedgehog would help the other slaves if they asked.

Dedclaw Slavemaster realized this too late. He found a gaping hole in the prison cage, and all the slaves were missing. Fear on his face, he turned to his weasel goons. "Traz, Alca, yer the best trackers. Find them!"

The two weasels nodded obediently and began pointing out tracks. "'Ere they're a bit deeper, coz they were carryin' the otters. It looks like they were on their way seaward, then would travel 'till they reached the mountain."

The rat growled. "Well, catch 'em, or the queen'll 'ave our 'eads!" The weasels ran off on his orders. Realizing it was dangerous to stay at the crime scene, Dedclaw ran after them. They walked along the shore, Traz and Alca in front. Dedclaw held his whip at the ready. "The slaves can't've gone too far. We'll catch'em soon. There, do you see that mob?"

Alca had the keenest eyes of any of the weasels. He squinted, "Aye, those're the sla-"

The rat and weasels ran hard, stampeding Alca. The weasel rolled to the side and got up, following them.

Two otter slaves holding Verane between them began running faster, as did the ones holding Marko. Branos easily out ran the others, many meters ahead. Though the hedgehog had short legs, he ran swiftly, almost to Salamandastron.

A score of arrows came from in front of them, killing three slaves and two weasels. A third force, that of vermin that were not blue, something that Branos had never seen except with Grimfur's crew, were coming towards them.

Voices came: "Silvertung! Silvertung! Victory's in sight! Silvertung! Silvertung! We will win this fight!"

"Aaaah! They've got us cornered!" shouted a mouse slave, then an arrow pierced her throat.

Marko turned his head. Dedclaw and his goons were running the opposite direction now, though Alca was far behind, with a limp.

The vermin surrounded them and killed a few, though most refrained from it. Two grabbed Alca and lifted him up.

The leader of the vermin, a pine marten, took out a rope. Tying it to their paws, he said, "Ye are prisoners of the Silvertung Empire. Ye will do as ye are ordered, or ye shall die."

The slaves, with the exception of Branos, and Alca gave a groan of dispair. It looked like they were on their way to freedom, but so quickly they had been recaptured.

"Out of the frying pan and into the fire," sighed Marko.

ooooooooooooooooo

Two young hares, Trav and Miran had came to Rhys with the same symptoms of General Tenac, confirming Rhys's theory of a disease. The mountain was in a state of turmoil. A disease!

Rhys was worried it was Mortifer's or Dryditch. They were very similar, at least at the very beginning. Unless they are given immediate care, Mortifer's would kill them by the end of the day, and if they got proper care, then at maximum three days. They both had one cure, Icetor Flowers, which Rhys did not have, and they could not journey to the North Mountains in time.

A hare, Captain X. Fabian, poked his head in the infirmary. "Dirgy feels funny, so do the De Mayne twins. Should I send 'em?"

Stressed, Rhys replied, "Yes! We need to contain it so it doesn't spread!"

"Yes, madame! Fingers crossed it's not Dry Pit or Morty's fur, wot!"

The usually calm hare madame had an angry look on her face. "Captain, by now I'm hoping it is Dryditch, because it's one of the two and Mortifer's is much, much worse!"

The color drained from Fabian's face. "Yes, yes, Madame. I'll go get Dirgy, and the twins as well."

"Go, then! NOW!"

Nodding, the hare ran off. Shaking her head, Rhys went about dabbing foreheads with Yarrow tincture. "Oh, no. What will happen to us?"

ooooooooooooooooo

Brawblade paced around his chamber, biting his pawnails. What were they to do? As much as he hated it, that fox was right. No doubt he had something to do with this sickness, yes, they had never seen vermin like him.

The badger picked up a chair in his anger and threw it, smashing it against the rock wall. This sickness was spreading fast. Tenac, Trav, Miran, Dirgy, the De Mayne twins, Albert, Benedict. Rhys could keep them alive, at least that's what it seemed at the moment. But what about when she got sick? It was bound to happen, and then what would happen? And if it was Mortifer's, and not Dryditch?

They need a solution, they needed one fast. Wordlessly he walked through Salamandastron to the chamber where many badger lords had been before him. Going through ancient carvings made long ago, he felt worried about many things.


	20. Chapter XIX

**The Great South Stream Crossing**

Tharius and Anera were competent swimmers, and got across the Great South Stream easily. This did not fare similarly for the other four.

"Come on, Hurqu," urged Anera. "You and Brockhammer are so large, you'll be able to walk across, easily!"

The goat nodded nervously and placed his hoof in the water, he slipped a bit and his head went under. Seconds later, he emerged, chest-deep.

"Ach, the wee lassie's right, it is shallow 'nough! Come on, auld stripedawg, 'tis not so deep!"

As the goat made his way across as Brockhammer got in. The badger followed Hurqu as they made it across the stream. Aar Krullen and Amamo were not so like that. The brash rabbit leaped into the water, accidentally pushing Aar Krullen in. The hedgehog promptly curled into a ball and floated across to be grabbed by Brockhammer, but Amamo was not so lucky.

Tharius jumped into the water, leaving the Sword of Martin on the shore. He swam after the rabbit, following a trail of fallen katanas.

A young and small pike swam, striking his side. The pike bit down on his arm and dragged him down, as Tharius struggled for freedom and air. Kicking the pike with his footpaws, he grabbed one of the sunken katanas. He struck at the young pike, and struck again, forcing it to release his arm. He struck again, and the pike decided it wasn't worth it and swam off.

Dropping the blade Tharius continued swimming after the rabbit, haunted by the spirits of his long-dead family. He could not, would not, lose any others.

Obviously his limbs had other ideas. Exhausted from swimming and fighting the pike, he began to slack in speed and energy. He had to go up for air more and more, gasping for breath. He soon was just pushed by the force of the stream, floating along.

Then two paws grabbed his tail and yanked him ashore. Normally they never would have been able to do so, but in his weakened state, it was like pulling a feather from a bird. Choking up water, Tharius looked at his unwanted rescuer.

He was a very strange mouse in odd clothes. He had an emerald green cap with a feather, whimsical blue eyes, a pointed goatee and a curled mustache. He wore a black leather cloak with gold trimmings, a maroon under coat and green pants, with thin brown shoes. He had a fine lute slung over his back and was carrying a haversack.

"Well, well," said the mouse, amused. "You certainly got yourself in a spot of trouble, didn't you."

Tharius gave him a hateful glare. In a raspy voice he said, "I need to save my friend. Why did you stop me?"

"Tut-tut, I didn't stop you, I saved you. You were going to get yourself killed, my friend."

Tharius growled. "Tell me where we are!"

The mouse indicated the sludge Tharius was lying in. "We're in the swamplands, so don't be so loud, or the toads will hear us, my friend."

"I need to save my friend!"

"Didn't I say not to be so loud? Didn't I just say that? Ah, well. The toads aren't in this area at the moment, off preoccupied with something."

"I need to save my friend!"

"Listen-"

"No! I must save-"

"Findelo, wot's goin'- oh, 'ello Tharius!" called Amamo.

Tharius groaned and then started laughing. "Ahahah! Of course, I've made a fool of myself! Glad to see you alive!"

"Same for you my friend."

"That's what I was trying to tell you!" sighed the mouse, Findelo. He gave his paw to Tharius and helped him up. "Well, I think we need a proper instruction... Tharius. I am Findelo Gonfelin, son of Mario and Juliet, wanderer, Prince of Bards, and the one who returned that great sword to your troupe. And you?"

"I am Tharius Oakleaf Squirrelprince, son of Truffen and Karina. My family was killed and I have an oath of vengeance to kill the swine who did it."

Findelo whistled. "A Squirrelprince, aye? Well, sorry for your loss, then. So I guess you're traveling to find the swine?"

Tharius nodded. "We need to get back to Anera and the others."

Findelo shook his head. "Nay, they'll be sure to head downstream after you, then we'll meet up with them and head to the shore. I know a place we can stay."

ooooooooooooooo

"Ach, yer nah dead, Tharius!" called Hurqu.

"Hey Amamo isn't either!" exclaimed Aar Krullen.

"'Course I ain't. Take a lot more than water to kill me."

"And you're Findelo, the mouse from the stream!" shouted Anera.

Findelo laughed. "I am, I am! Guess who put yon sword in yon mountain?"

The mouse looked at "yon sword" and laughed. She gave Findelo a quick embrace. "Thank you, this means a lot to the Abbey."

"Well, if I didn't think that I would have stolen it, fair maiden." The mouse gave a small bow.

Anera chuckled.

"Findelo, you said you knew someplace we can stay?"

"Ah, yes. Well, I meant I know somebody who knows a place we can stay."

oooooooooooooo

"Not what I expected..." said Tharius.

A mole called Ergo the Hermit took them to a sand dune. Brushing some sand away, he revealed an ancient door. The mole left, not saying a word.

"Well, you can just stay outside. Remember what Ergo said?" asked Findelo.

The mole had told them how Vafír's horde making an alliance with the toads. When Tharius wanted to go and attack the horde head on, the mole chastised him. Tharius retorted, and looked for the help of his friends. Aside from Amamo, they all agreed he was much to brash.

Findelo opened the door, revealing some rusty old tracks and a dark tunnel littered with cobwebs. "Now, we don't want to go too far into this, Ergo said things can get odd back there. 'Tis not much, but 'tis better than a freezing cold night."

"It's freezing cold in both places, Findelo," said Amamo. "I wouldn't sleep in there, no doubt we won't wake up."

"Ah, 'tis fine. Anythin' that's in here would have died long ago. Probably was an abandoned mine, by the tracks. Some gas came, it passed, everything's dead and the place is perfectly safe."

"Yeah, those two words don't go together, dead and safe," said Aar Krullen. "I'm not-"

"Och, ye wee cowards! Ah'll go through the whole place, just teh prove ye wrong!"

And with that the goat slung his axe over his back, took his grippers off and bounded on all fours through the mine.

Findelo shrugged and ran off after him. He was followed by Tharius, saying, "Well we can't let 'em go alone."

Amamo sighed. "Well, wot'll we do, my fellow travelers?"

Brockhammer looked to the great mountain in the distance. "If we travel through the night we'll get there by morn. I say we go through the toadlands and the massive horde that wishes us dead on no food or sleep until-"

"Goodbye!" called Amamo, hopping through the mine.

Chuckling, Brockhammer ran after him. Aar Krullen looked at Anera, an apologetic look on his face and shrugged, then walked cautiously into the mine.

Anera sighed. "Urgh! Ah well, I'm coming. Wait up!"

ooooooooooooo

"Oh my, what in the name Gonff Mousethief is that?"

Hurqu shrugged. "Och, the auld thang died a while ago, of its grand age. Must 'ave been ancient!"

The corpse of a massive tarantula lay on the ground, blocking two paths through the mine. It had died a good while ago, down in these mines.

Tharius came in, shortly followed by Amamo. "What is that?" asked the rabbit.

"Ah don't know, but ah d'know what path we're doin'." He pointed a hoof down the one unblocked path, "Let's go!"

Anera came into the room last, with a squeak of fear. Hastily following where the others would have gone to, she caught up to Aar Krullen, who was walking.

"Ah! Everything's dead, aye?" muttered the hedgehog. "That certainly didn't when this was a mine, it was just a few seasons ago. If it had just lasted a bit longer we all would die. Okay, maybe not Hurqu and Brockhammer, but the rest of us. Who knows what else is down here?"

"Och, Ah found some guld!" came the voice of Hurqu, far up the mine.

"Oh, I knew this was a good idea!" called Aar Krullen, bolting down the mine faster than Anera had ever seen a beast run, even the otters when hotroot soup was being served.

Hurqu did not _just _find gold, he found a pile of it, with precious gems, great swords, tough armor, and so on. It appeared to be a carved out room, though there wasn't a way out, as it seemed.

Laughing, Aar Krullen and Amamo threw themselves on the treasure, stuffing their pockets with the stuff. They were somewhat joined by Hurqu.

"Ah, nought like good gold, eh, matey?"

"Hah, unless there's good food t'be had!"

"Yer right there!"

"Ach, auld goat aumor! Ah thought this was only in yon North Mountains!"

The goat up on a helmet with holes for where his horns would go through. Putting on his grippers and hefting his axe, with the great helmet he looked fearsome indeed.

"Oh my," said Brockhammer, standing over a stone box.

Anera came over. "What... oh..."

"'Tis a tomb," said Brockhammer. "It says its for Urthstripe the Strong, one of the Great Lords of Salamandastron."

The others nodded grimly, then Brockhammer perked up.

"Wait, hang on. If Urthstripe was buried here..." The badger went over to where a large boulder was blocking the room from the other rocks on the outside. "This is the treasury of Salamandastron, and-"

"Treasury of Salamandastron?" asked Aar Krullen, as he and Amamo hastily emptied their pockets, and Hurqu sighed and took off his helmet.

Brockhammer chuckled to himself. Pressing his paws against the bolder, he pushed with all his might. His muscles bulging, the boulder slowly began moving to the left. The power needed for forging came back, helping him. The rock slowly moved to the side.

"Och, a braw feat ye did, auld Brock!" called Hurqu. "A way out!"

Hurqu bounded through the exit, followed by the others.

Brawblade was coming from the chamber his face grim. His surprise overcame his grimness when a goat, a brown rabbit, his cousin, a white-bellied hedgehog, a squirrel, a mousemaid, and an odd-dressed bard came running through the corridor.


	21. Chapter XX

**Salamandastron's Shore**

"YOU LET THE SLAVES_ ESCAPE?_" screamed Kamataya, fangs bared.

Traz the weasel tracker lay dead on the ground, while Dedclaw and the other slavemasters were on their knees, trebling with fear.

"We were about to catch 'em, yer majesty, on me oath we were!" cried the fearful rat.

Kamataya swiped her claws, leaving four red scores across his face. "Did I ask for excuses? No, I asked for results! Now, how did you lose slaves that you were, as you say, 'about to catch 'em'?"

Dedclaw winced. "Some other vermin attacked us, they caught the slaves! I swear! They were shouting' somethin' like 'Silvertung! Silvertung!'"

Those last two words saved Dedclaw and his goons' life. Kamataya looked up, forgetting about the sniveling vermin. "Silvertung... Grimfur!"

Grimfur came to his wildcat master and bowed his head. "What, your majesty?"

"Silvertung's here."

The weasel's eyes widened. He feared they wouldn't be, and didn't expect him to be, but he was, and Grimfur's life was saved. "Good, good, your majesty! So we can defeat them, now!"

The wildcat laughed her mad, wicked laugh. "Ahahahah! I coming for you, Silvertung! Grimfur, tell the hordes to prepare to fight. We'll be killin' today!"

ooooooooooooo

"I told you all I know, I swear!" cried the weasel Alca.

"I never said you didn't," replied Silvertung calmly.

The weasel struggled in his bonds. "What do you want me for?"

"I want you to join my horde. You're a skilled tracker, and we can use you."

The weasel bit his cheek. "I'm loyal to Queen Kamataya-"

"Yes, we know. You told us. But think. With the toad's help, we have the largest force. We've already infiltrated Salamandastron with a disease. I have a cure for my horde, but all others will die. My horde gets well-fed and nice conditions, and better once we finish conquering. Of course, if you refuse, I'll take that chair you're tied to, weight with stones, and throw you into the sea." The fox kept his calm voice, which made Alca ever so more frightened.

Biting his cheek, the weasel said, "Gaah! Wot's the point. Sound's gud to be in yer army, and I'll die if I don't."

Vafír patted the weasel's shoulder, then cut his bonds, glad to see the weasel didn't run. "Good. Now, go about and tell my vermin here to start heading south."

"W-why?"

"If what you told me is true, Kamataya wishes me dead. The mad cat will march south, and we'll want the toads with us for the battle. The toads are south. Understand?"

The weasel nodded his head.

"Good, now go!"

ooooooooooooo

"Brockhammer, nice to see you here!"

"Same to you, cousin!"

"Now, who are your friends?"

"Well, we have Amamo the Brash and Aar Krullen the Greedy-"

"Hey! I'm not bra- okay, that's fair."

"I'm not _that _greedy."

"And there's Findelo the Bard, Anera the Fair, Tharius Squirrelprince, and the goat is Hurqu the Proud."

Captain Fabian came running into the hallway. "Lord- oh, my."

Brawblade laughed. "Welcome, friends. I have not met a goat in my life, though I always have wished to meet one. Though you are in great danger. You see, a disease has spread through the mountain, a very deadly one placed by some vermin-"

"Vafír Silvertung!" cried Tharius.

"You know him!"

The squirrel's face was an image of hate. "That scum murdered my family. I'll kill him!"

"I hope you do, but you'll have to wait."

"Lord!" said Fabian. "I bear bad news and good news. The bad news is that Rhys has contracted the disease and Tenac's gone bloomin' mad, confirming it's Mortifer's-"

"WHAT?"

"Mad! He's rambling about everything. Rhys is sick, so she can't help. She says Tenac will be gone by sundown, wot!"

Brawblade put his head in his paws. Tenac! That hare was his friend, oldest on the mountain. And with Rhys sick, they were all in greater danger. "What's the good news, Fabian?"

"Well, one of the vermin hordes, Silvertung's, is goin' south, followed by the blue 'uns, who are ready for a battle! One of them will lose, and then that's one less problem to worry about, wot wot!"

oooooooooooooo

"Kam-a-tay-a! Kam-a-tay-a! Vengeance! Vengeance! Kam-a-tay-a! Kam-a-tay-a! Vengeance! Vengeance!"

"Silvertung! Silvertung! Victory's in sight! Silvertung! Silvertung! We will win this fight!"

"Draaaaaaaaaaaaag-wa! Draaaaaaaaaaaaag-wa!"

Tridents and arrows flew through the air, cutting off the first rank of the Blue Hordes. Kamataya screamed for her vermin to charge faster, and she herself ran in front of them all.

An arrow flew through the air, catching her in the shoulder. Her vision going red, she tore the arrow out. Reaching the first rank, she used just her claws to kill a rat and a toad. Her hordes came right behind them to fight the Silvertung Hordes.

Where the armies met was chaos. As they weren't as well trained, slightly outnumbered, and they were fighting in a swamp against toads, they quickly began losing the battle.

Kamataya would not let this happen. Barraging for the ranks she killed all in her way, even two that were of her own side. Bleeding from a score of wounds but not noticing, she slaughtered her enemies mercilessly.

Dethfur the rat and Foulpaw the ferret fought easily, slaying the blue vermin. Stabbing a weasel in the throat with his cutless, Dethfur laughed. "Hah! Easy, I tell you! We'll win this fight, then once we take Salamandastron we'll kill Silvertung! Haharr!"

Foulpaw laughed as well. Stabbing with his spear, he said, "We're well-trained fighters that outnumber them. They're attacking us in our own land! The fools will-Aaaargh!"

A great maroon wildcat ripped his throat up with her fangs, killing him instantly. Spitting him out, she gnashed her bloody fangs. Screaming, Dethfur dropped his cutlass and ran back through the horde.

Laughing, Kamataya charged through the army, her red eyes intent on the white fox that stood out in the sea of beasts. Not noticing as she slaughtered beasts with ease, she tore through the swamps as a Dibbun would tear through a grassland with a cake on the other side. Ripping creatures to bits, she laughed as she came close to the one she vowed revenge on.

Vafir grinned and ordered his creatures to clear the way to get to him, saying they'd have no chance at killing the wildcat. Her eyes as maroon as her fur, Kamataya laughed as she reached the white fox.

Her claws grabbed on to his right arm. Growling, Vafir was glad for being left-pawed, something that was uncommon through the lands. Hacking at her arm with his sabre, she released and took a step back, then renewed her charge, screaming as she leapt at Silvertung.

"Die! Die, fox, you will pay for murdering my brother!"

Her claws raked his face, giving him the second, third, and fourth scars he had ever gotten in his life. Growling, Vafir shouted, "Your brother was a fool, and you a bigger one! I am Silvertung, greatest Emperor to ever exist!"

Kamataya cackled, then grabbed his left shoulder and sunk her claws in. "Oh, but I'm here to end you! You will pay!"

Vafir squirmed away, then struck again, digging his blade half-deep into her shoulder. The maroon wildcat screamed in pain, but did not die, in a great bloodwrath similar to those of badgers. The wildcat roared and charged at Vafir.

The fox grabbed a trident from a toad bystander. He held it forward as Kamataya charged right into it.

Letting go, Vafir jumped aside as the trident pierced and she fell to the ground, the hilt pushing further up through, the three points tearing right through the other side of her back, tearing through her.

Queen Kamataya, ruler of the far north, was dead!


	22. Chapter XXI

**Kamataya's dead! I hope that'll clear up some of the villains. When you continue, know that many who are no longer necessary will die soon. *Smiles innocently***

**Redwall**

With Darkblood dead, Griv Beastcrusher had proudly taken his place as Lord of Redwall. The score of slaves (including Tench and the Voles) were trapped in the Bell Tower, no escape. The seven-score and five of dead Redwallers' heads were placed on poles on top of the walls, warding off any enemies. The wolverine was laying in the orchard, eating a fish he had snatched from the pond.

Fourclaws the rat was sitting on a large rock in the grounds next to the pond, glaring at the wolverine. "Ah, lookit 'im! He's got no brains, just 'is strength! Why should we listen to 'im?"

His companion, a fox called Darkfang, shrugged. "Coz he's got strength, like ye said. Ye wanna be chief, go fight him."

Fourclaws growled. "E'll rip me to shreds! Nay, I'll kill 'im a different way, wi' poison or somethin'"

The rat suddenly realized Darkfang was still there, and growled. But the fox just shrugged. "I won't turn ye in, I don't like 'im either. But don't expect me to help ye. I keep me snout out o' business, that's 'ow I'm still alive."

Firak the stoat watched this from the pond, which he was swimming in. The tattooed stoat had long dirty dark brown fur and a scruffy beard. A former corsair, he had once been Captain-in-Chief to Griv Beastcrusher and remained loyal to his master. With a dark chuckle, he ducked under the water.

ooooooooooooo

Abbess Fern's head popped from the soil. The second escape tunnel had brought them to the surface of the Earth. Kissing the grass, the Abbess was glad to feel the sun on her face and the grass under her feet. She was followed by the others, kissing the ground and thanking the moles.

"Hurr, us'n's just doin' wot we were made for, nought more."

Fern smiled. Humble to the end, those moles. Shaking her head, she resumed her role as a leader. "Come, we must find a hiding place. If the vermin send search crews, we'll be in trouble."  
The Redwallers nodded and followed her. Mallow, wife of Darrow, mother of the infant Chubbo came up to the Abbess. "I wish I had gone with my husband, but I have a young 'un to take care of. Hmm. Abbess, what do you think happened to my parents-in-law, and Young Kell? They wouldn't take them for slaves, old and crippled. What if they're..." a single tear went down the hogwife's cheek.

Abbess put a paw on her shoulder. Sadness filled her heart as well. Kell was young, and didn't deserve such a fate. Her eyes watered as she thought of how she never made up with Uggo and Posy, her two oldest friends.

Holly the squirrel climbed up a tree with grace. "I'll look to see if I can find a good place to hide. Maybe in that old church that was burned."

The squirrel stayed up in the top of the tree for a few moments, the screamed. She fell from the branches, her dignified manner lost.

Stammering, Abbess Fern and Marrow helped her sit up next to the tree.

"What is it, my daughter?" asked Fern.

"I-it's the a-abbey!" cried the squirrel. "They-they took all th-those that d-died, a-and put their h-heads on poles! It's terrible! Maro, Dana, Skipper, Gino, and some friends, too! Jasmine, Declan, Queenie, Marigold! Th-they were just-" the squirrel erupted in tears and placed her head on her knees, shaking.

Abbess Fern's eyes were brimming with tears as she patted her back. "Hush, hush, young one. Relax."

A hedgehog of the Wiltud clan that had retreated to Redwall, Borgy Wiltud, whacked the tree with a staff, causing them to jump. "Aah, quit yer whinin' squirrel, we gotta get movin'!"

Throwing the staff over his shoulder, he walked off into the woods, followed by the others.

Abbess Fern offered Holly a hand and helped her up. "Come, young one. We do have to go!"

Nodding, Holly wiped her eyes. It would be a long next few days.

**The Tunnels Under Kotir under Redwall**

Tired and anxious, the ones who had travelled to the tunnel were now regretting their choice. The tunnel was damp and stuffy, with little air.

Mervo was in the front, trying to appear brave, though he was thinking of the fate of Uggo and Posy, as were they all, who must have been killed. They had reached out to him and given him a chance when others had not. His insides cringed as he thought of them, his friends.

His sadness turned to anger. If only the Redwallers had allowed him to help! But no, he was young, and therefore dumb. And now look where they were. Zeela put a paw on his shoulder. He shrugged it off. He realized he'd have to learn to be strong, not whining to his mother as he used to.

Zeela sighed. "Mervo's growing," she whispered to Erzvin.

Her husband, who was carrying the torch, nodded. "Aye, don't you remember being rebellious like this at his age?"

Zeela nodded. "Still, though. So well-behaved as a child I thought he would, sort of just skip it, you know?"

Erzvin shrugged. "This war is changing him. Though he grows surly, this may be good for him."

Zeela looked at him. "In what way?"

The light-furred fox shrugged. "Well... we've coddled him a bit, y'know."

"What do you mean?"

Erzvin sighed. "Well, we were living good, in the perfect place to farm. We had everything we ever wanted, but with out problems you can't grow stronger. This is good for our son."

Zeela frowned. "I suppose... Still, I guess I don't want him to grow up."

Erzvin put a paw on her shoulder. "That may be what's wrong."

ooooooooooooo

Coming across a fork, Mervo didn't even stop to consider. Something was pulling him to go left, so that's the way he went, followed by the others.

Sister Chamomile was a young mouse that respected Zeela for her healing arts. Hoping that the fox would teach her things when they were through this mess, she had came through the passage. Sorely regretting it now, she walked hunched over through the damp tunnels, occasionally letting out squeaks of fear. Tinsel the hedgehog was at her side to comfort her, but Chamomile could sense impatience rising from the hedgehog.

"Eeeeh!" cried Chamomile.

"Sister, it's just an ant, nought t'be afraid of."

"Well, I could hardly see it, it's so dark in here!"

"Then stop walking so slowly so we can catch up to Erzvin! He has the torch!"

oooooooooooooo

Darrow was just behind Mervo, following the young fox, wallowing in the despair of the loss of his parents and sister. They had never hurt anybody! Well, his dad killed a weasel and his mum helped kill a Wearat, but they didn't want to! And Sylva was innocent as well. What cruel world was this?

The hedgehog made a sigh. Through the dim outline of the torch he could see another fork in the tunnels. As Mervo began to go right, Darrow began to follow him, then noticed some scratches on the wall.

"Mervo, wait!" called the Hedgehog. The young fox turned and gave him a look.

"What is it?"

"There's some ancient badger script here... it says sinister again. I think we should go left!"

"Darrow, I feel like I should go right. Something's pulling me. Like the spirit of Martin."

Darrow gave the fox a fond look. "Listen, a badger carved this. _I _feel this is the right way."

Mervo sighed. "Fine, we'll go this way."

This time Mervo took up the rear, waiting for the others to pass. Once Chamomile finally went down the passage, he turned to the right path. He felt like he needed to this. This was his chance! Mervo bit the inside of his cheek and ran down the path.

Then the rocks fell, caving down the entrance, and his hopes of escape vanished.


	23. Chapter XXII

**The Swamp**

"Your leader has been killed! Your horde defeated! I give you two choices! Die, or serve me!"

After a moment's hesitation, the blue hordes lifted their weapons in the air. "Silvertung! Silvertung! Victory's in sight! Silvertung! Silvertung! We will win this fight!"

The white fox smiled as the blue hordes joined his ranks. Though he did have something else to deal with. He called to him the score of vermin that were not dyed blue. Pointing to the leader, he said, "You, your name is Grimfur, is it not?"

The dark-furred weasel nodded, clearly nervous. "Aye, aye, Gri-Grimfur's m-my name!"

Vafir smiled. "You were of Griv's horde? And I offered you redemption. And how did you repay me? You went and got enemies to come and defeat me."

Grimfur nodded his head, more nervous.

"Aargh!" shouted the fox. Muttering to himself, he said, "Darkblood better be on his guard. That wolverine will try to take him out," resuming his calm manner, he said, "So why should I give you another chance, as you've already betrayed me once?"

The weasel's eyes widened. "B-because, s-sire, I-I-"

The sabre found its mark in the weasel's gut, killing him. "One who whines and begs is of no use to me," he nodded to Zaev, who smiled and through a piece of cloth in the air. On signal, nineteen toad tridents flew through the air, killing the remaining vermin.

The fox sighed. "Pity, but they'd have betrayed me again," lowering his voice, he muttered to Zaev, "How goes with your spying?"

The pine marten grinned. "I have got the help of two, Bloodtoe rat and Skri fox. They're loyal to us, and they've rooted out some potential traitors."

"Who?"

"Nothing certain, yet. Dethfur and his crew are a possibility. So are Clawd the stoat and Scumsnout the weasel. But, like I said, nothing certain."

"Hmmm... Tell them to keep an eye on all who were loyal to Griv. He's a traitor, Grimfur's proof. Which runner has the best endurance?"

"Srav the ferret."

"Send him with rations and tell him to run west, get to the abbey and warn Darkblood about Griv."

"Yessir, I'll get right on it."

ooooooooooooo

Bloodtoe was a stout, gray rat with a dirty face, Skri the fox was a tall, lean female fox with a missing ear. Spies for Zaev, and in turn Silvertung, they were among the most loyal of troops, head captains and ruthless killers. Skri's one ear was very good, and could hear many things without others noticing. Bloodtoe was incredibly observant, probably more observant than the whole horde, and so they both made good spies, along with being very good at deceiving others when they'd want.

Scumsnout the weasel had once been a captain in Griv's horde, though had been demoted when Vafir had taken over. The result was a grudge against the white fox, who had not found him worthy to continue captaincy.

He pulled out his longbow and fingered the arrow. Eying the tent Silvertung was sleeping, he drew the bow, looking around to make sure nobody was watching, he grinned.

Just before the arrow left a cutlass sped out and cut the bowstring, and Scumsnout looked to where the cutlass had come from, seeing the villainous vulpine face of Skri. Before he could yell out, Bloodtoe's dagger found its place between the weasel's ribs.

ooooooooooooo

Fallear the Blue weasel poured Oleander oils into a goblet. "Hoho, Silvertung'll regret killin' Queen Kamataya, that's fer sure!"

The half-score blue vermin with him chuckled darkly. One, a young rat called Splitty, said, "Yes! Heehee! An' us'n's be kings!"

Fallear scowled. Putting his face close to Splitty and touching the rat's throat with a knife he called, "Nay! You'n's be cap'ns! I be king, coz it wuz my idea!"

"Yes, yes, King Fallear!" cried Splitty, scooting away.

Virrayna the weasel cook grinned. "An' I be 'igh cook! Coz I'm much be'er dan Siller'ung's!"

Silvertung's cook was in reality a master chef, a rotund and dignified stoat called Rurjy, who could produce food to rival Redwall Abbey's, even in the dismal swamp. But being vain, Virrayna took no notice of this.

Fallear patted her head. "Aye, you'll be 'igh cook an' Cap'n!"

Virrayna laughed and took a bite of an apple she had in her paw.

Scowlface the stoat, well, scowled. "Wot if we get caught? Then wot'd we do?"

Bloodtoe's pierced his back like it did with Scumsnout. As the stoat keeled over, Bloodtoe said, "That'll be wot 'appens!"

Skri the fox came from behind, taking out a weasel. "Run an' regroup!" called Fallear, dashing through the swamp.

A hooded figure jumped from behind a rock and slew the weasel with a long rapier. The other eight vermin charged at him, Viraynna shouting, "Come on, we outnumber 'im!"

The figure slew her with ease, and with her fell the rest of the blue vermin, killed with the efficiency of only a master swordsbeast could use. The last was Splitty, who decided it wasn't worth it and ran the other way. Looking backwards, he bolted right into Skri's cutlass with a dying scream.

Zaev removed his hood and congratulated his spies. "Good work. Keep it up and you'll both be generals."

**Salamandastron**

The mountain was in ghastly condition. Hares, otters, mice, badger, a goat and a squirrel tried to confide themselves to their room, but there was no denying the stomach. Nearly a quarter of the mountain had Mortifer's, and some would not last much longer.

Hurqu was pacing around his stone room, his bed in splinters. Without a fight, he destroyed what he could. The bed, his chairs, the paintings on the wall, and threw a golden statue from a window.

Sighing, he looked miserably out the window. After staring into the sky, he chuckled. Crawling through his window, he laughed as he felt the wind go through his fur. Jumping back into his room he grabbed a haversack to put his grippers in, then slung that and his axe onto his back. Bounding back through the window he looked up the mountain. Stamping his hooves, he ran upwards, up the steep mountain as his ancestors would, laughing into the wind.

Reaching the top, he called, "Och, this is the life!" He enjoyed the others company, but he hadn't ran up a mountain in far too long.

"Now!" came a voice behind him, as a net was thrown over his head.

The goat turned around, roaring. Seven rats had thrown a net over his head. As he turned with such force, the net was slung to the side and a screaming rat fell into the crater at the top of the mountain. Hurqu charged forward, goring a second rat with his horns.

The other five rats grabbed him and held him down. The leader, incorrectly called Bigteeth, cried, "We got 'im! Silvertung be happy! See 'ow 'e ran up 'e mountain! 'E could carrys us'n's! Heehee!"

Hurqu let out a groan of despair.

ooooooooooooo

Thorkrig, chief of the Rogue Crew, had a room in similar shape to Hurqu's. Growling, he was interested by the commotion going just above his room. Opening the door, he saw a moaning rat lying on the floor.

Grabbing his axe and putting the rat out of his misery, he looked upwards, where the crater was. There seemed to be some sort of struggle going on up there. Growling he climbed up there with the his great strength. Five rats were trying to capture the strange horned creature that came new here. Laughing, he called, "Hoolaaawheeeey!"

The rats hardly had time to turn in fear as they were cut down by Thorkrig's axe. Laughing the otter pulled the net off Hurqu. Shaking off the fight, they looked down the mountain.

"Oh, great," growled Thorkrig. "Those vermin are back."


	24. Chapter XXIII

**Redwall**

Griv Beastcrusher picked poor Friar Durglo up by the tail, hanging him upside down.

"Hmmm... You're that foolish dormouse that threw a fruit at me..."

Durglo shrugged and gave a nervous giggle. "Heheh. Well..."

Griv growled. One of his captains, a stoat called Weaseltail, realized that Griv would almost surely kill the cook. Looking at his fantastic lunch, he interrupted the wolverine, always something dangerous to do.

"Err, sire, don't you think 'tis a little harsh to kill 'im? I mean, 'is food tastes as good as ole Rurjy's."

The wolverine growled again, then dropped the dormouse and returned to his meal, a huge roast fish that could feed half the horde. "Yer right, Weaseltail. Food is good."

He sat a table with his ten captains, each eating the finest of food. Roast fish, October ale, and more. Meanwhile, the rest of the horde sat outside, chewing roots or other plants, a few lucky ones with a fish or sparrow they caught.

"Ahem, sire," said the burly stoat Firak, looking through an abbey window. "Err, don't you think that the rest of the horde should get some of this food? We 'ave enough. I mean, Silvertu-"

Griv leaned over the table in front of his captain-in-chief. "Wot? Ye think Silvertung was a better leader than me?"

"Ah, no, no, no," cried the stoat, half-lying. "I just mean to say that we could earn sum loyalty, I heard sum mutinous talk goin' around."

"I don't need loyalty! I can make them fear me! Now, who are the mutineers?"

"Err, umm, that rat, Fourclaws. And there was just sum general mutter."

Griv growled for the third time this meal. "Hmm... I'll get 'im..." The wolverine got up and stalked out the door. The captains looked at each other, then leaped for the remainder of his fish.

oooooooooooooo

Fourclaws the rat was with the fox Darkfang, trying to convince him to take out Griv Beastcrusher. "Come on, d'ye see how 'e feeds us? I mean..."

"Gaw, I like bein' a live! Who in their right mind attacks a wolverine!"

Fourclaws looked over his shoulder. "Run! Ye have to, he's cummin' after us, must've found out! 'E'll think yer wit me!"

Darkfang gave a yelp of fear and they both bolted across the lawns, followed by Griv, who shouted, "Stop those mutineers!"

Two rats jumped in front of them. Darkfang was an expert fighter, and dispatched both of them with ease.

Fourclaws pointed at some white boxes in front of them. "Hide behind those!"

ooooooooooooo

Up in the infirmary room where the slaves were kept, Brother Ruford, the abbey beekeeper, was looking out the window. The usually quiet and calm mouse was cheering to the outside. "Ayyyy! Get those vermin! Come on! Make yer owner proud!"

A squirrel, Sister Tennyl wondered what could make Ruford so excited. "Brother, what is-"

"Just look, sister! They're making me so proud!"

The mouse had a few tears of joy running down his face. Tennyl looked at the window to see what was going on. The white boxes where the bees were kept were knocked over, and hundreds of furious bees were hovering over a rat, fox, and a huge, monstrous beast the size of badger. The vermin were screaming in pain as the horde of bees attacked them. Tennyl let out a laugh as well.

The fox was the first to run. Darkfang bolted away, the angry bees hot on his tail. He hurriedly climbed up the wall. He couldn't stay here, Griv would surely kill him and Fourclaws. Biting his lip, he leaped over the wall, his last chance.

What would have been a long and painful death was broken by the carcass of a rotting weasel. The fox immediately recognized as a talented fighter called Bluddfang. Not giving it too much thought, he ran off into Mossflower Woods.

Fourclaws was not as lucky. He was right in the middle of the bees, and his whole body was swelling up. Griv Beastcrusher had finally reached him when he realized the rat had died.

Giving a snort of disgust, he made an undignified retreat from the bees. Covered in stings, the Redwallers laughed with mirth, along with the vermin, once they were sure Griv couldn't here them.

Out in the woods, Darkfang muttered, "Huh. Mebbe Fourclaws was right. That wolverine is a terrible leader."

**Saint Ninian's ruins**

Throwing an old blanket somebody had grabbed before they left over the ruins of the church (along with the otter's adding some logs to heighten the walls around Saint Ninian's), the Redwallers hurried inside.

"'Tis not much," said Abbess Fern, comforting some worried Dibbuns. "But 'tis home. And we have to live with it."

The squirrelbabe Ruggle asked, "Why can't we go 'ome?"

Fern bit her lip. "'Tis because there are some bad creatures in there."

Ruggle laughed. "Haharr! I'm no' scared o' bad cweatchers!"

Abbess Fern pulled Ruggle close to her. "Of course you aren't. Now, go to sleep."

The Dibbun laughed. "But 'tis no' bed time yet!"

Fern sighed. "Well, then, I don't know what to do! Go bug your parents!"

Ruggle laughed and ran off to "bug his parents", bugging his sister as well. Fern looked around. "Can I have some volunteers to go foraging? We need some food."

Borgy walked up to her, crouching, followed by another hedgehogs, and said, "Look no further! Us Wiltuds are champion foragers!"

The Abbess smiled. "Thank you, Borgy. Do be good."

Borgy and the hedgehogs saluted, then removed themselves from the church-tent-shelter. Walking through the forest chuckling, Borgy said, "'Ere, Mudgell. This'll be easy. 'Ow much is there we 'ave to feed? Half a score and six? Yeah, I think that's it, coz nine went down that weird tunnel thing! Odd fellows, they were. And that's countin' us. 'Ere, there's some berries right away!"

The plump hedgehogs started picking the blue berries, snacking as they picked. The ones they didn't eat went into a leather bag each one was carrying. "Let's see. The Abbess, o' course, and that 'ogwife Mallow, wit dat young un 'Olly. Then the seven Dibbuns, who don't eat as much. And dose three older uns. Wid de four moles, an' those nine dat ran, and a score o' slaves fer those vermin. Harrumph! One-hundred-seventy five dead! Terrible, 'tis!"

"Shut yer gob, Mudgell! I know dat!" replied Mudgell.

"Huh. Well let's just- 'old on there!" called Borgy, as he thrust his paw into a bush and yanked out a lanky and mean-looking fox with a long, black fang by the scruff of his neck. The fox was covered in bee stings.

"Wot 'ave we 'ere?" asked Borgy.

Darkfang shrugged. "I'm a fox. Ran, I did. Boss at the Redplace thought I was plottin' against 'im."

Borgy sighed. Looking towards where the abbey would be. "Vermin scum, ye deserted yer ranks! Though I guess that isn't exactly a sin where yer cummin' from, but yer no' a good beastie, either."

Darkfang shrugged, the fox just grateful he hadn't been caught by Griv, who'd had killed him already. Maybe he could survive this somehow. "Well, wot if I just left? I promise I won't harm no beast again."

"Throw out yer weapons," growled Mudgell.

The fox hurriedly emptied his pockets, getting rid of a dagger and a sword. Mudgell hurriedly picked them up, and said, "'Ow many did ye kill when ye attacked the abbey?"

"Err, one or two mice."

"So wot if we killed ye, one or two times?" asked Borgy.

The color drained from Darkfang's face. "Wait! No! I can git ye in the abbey!"

Borgy held the fox up to his face. "Ye better no' be lyin', or I'll make sure ye die, long and slow."

**The Tunnels Deep Under Ground (Actually this is almost directly under Saint Ninian's)**

Mervo sat on the rock floor, tears streaming down his face. His exit caved in, he was trapped. Calling out the names of those in the tunnels, his parents, the Wiltuds, Sister Chamomile, Bungle the mole, Ilia the squirrel, Rivertunnel the otter. Anybody. They were undoubtedly on the other side of the rock wall, hearing the rocks falling.

What would he do? Curse that feeling to go down the right path! He should have followed Darrow and the others. Then he would be stuck in this a-cursed tunnel! The air was stuffy and damp, the rocks hard. He'd been crying for hours to no avail.

His mother had always been there when he'd cry. She'd make him feel better. But she wasn't here now. He'd have to do this himself.

He shakily stood up. Wiping away some tears. He took a few shaky steps forward. He pushed against the crumbled wall, to no avail. Sighing, he leaned against it as more tears came.

That feeling came back. Every part of his body urged him to run forward, as he did. For the first few steps. After all, that feeling was the reason he was here, why should he trust it again.

"Because we brought you here for a reason," whispered a voice in his ear.

The young fox gave a yelp of fear and jumped, looking back to see no one. Shaking his head, he muttered, "No, that was just my imagination." Still though, he listened and walked forward. Slowly at first, but gradually faster, and faster, and faster.

Walking through ancient passageways carved in stone, a maze of dead ends and traps, Mervo never made one wrong turn. He was bolting through the tunnels, faster than he'd ever ran, until he came to a dead end.

But his instincts did not tell him it was a dead, nor did his eyes. He was in a circular room, with a seven decimeter staff in the exact center. Burning from the staff was an ice-blue fire.

_The sacred flame, _thought the young fox. _Like of what Arbor spoke of._

Feeling anxious, Mervo slowly crept toward the fire, then did what his ancestor, Zêrin, did long ago. He placed his paw on the fire.

The fire did not do what it had done to Zêrin. Instead of lighting him on fire, there was a great ice-blue blast that knocked Mervo to the edge of the room.

Then the fire rose up into the shape of a massive, ice-blue badger.

The fire badger looked down at him. In a strong, powerful voice he said, "Hello, Mervo. My name is Arbor Brock."


	25. Chapter XXIV

**The Tunnels Far Beneath the Ground**

"W-Wait. A-Arbor B-B-B-Brock? From the, the, the, the, scroll? W-With the v-v-v-v-vermin? A-And–"

"Quiet, young fox," the massive badger's face was grim. "You would be correct. I did write the scroll. But you know not the whole tale."

"W-Wait? The, the, the whole tale? What's th-that–"

"Silence! Let me speak my piece!" The blue flame creating the shape of the badger flared up, and Mervo gave a yelp of fear and scooted back.

"Now, you will not interrupt, lest I give you permission to speak. You will listen, and it will change you."

Mervo bit his lip to keep his mouth shut. The flames seemed to relax, and Arbor continued.

"Young one, I am a doomed beast. Since I died, my soul has been contained in this spell. I created this spell, so I could undo what I had done. I now give you permission to speak."

Mervo immediately poured out his questions. "Like you're doomed? You will never go on to the Dark Forest, or whatever awaits in the afterlife?"

The badger shook his head grimly. "I will be able to go on. Though I must relay my information. Young one, do you know why I would willingly imprison myself upon this land? You still have permission to speak."

"N-No. W-W-W-W-W-W-Why?"

The massive badger grimaced. "Once I relay my information I will be able to continue to the Dark Forest in peace."

"I'm still confused."

"I now take away your permission to speak. You will silently listen as I tell you my greatest mistake. A sin that would condemn me forever in the place of scum in the Dark Forest, so I have stayed here to redeem myself, to pass on the information, to help fix what I had done."

"W–"

"SILENCE!" The flames flared up, and Mervo shrunk himself into the wall. He looked for a corner to hide in, but to his dismay it was a circular room.

Arbor continued. "I committed what is among the greatest sins in history for selfish reasons. I was young. I took risks. I gambled. I meant for it to end well, but I failed.

"I was once a young badger with great ambitions. My father was the ruler of an empire that unified us all. But I sought to create the fall of his empire."

Before Mervo could say something, Arbor cut him off.

"It was my fault of the vermin's fall. I brought it upon this world. But I had my reasons.

"The empire was crumbling. We were unified, but we were in tremendous debt to the east, crime rates soared, and all other nations looked down upon us. So I concocted a plan. The Empire would fall, yes, I already knew that. The way I planned it would collapse into a great war on itself, divided. Then I would come and save it, to fix what had been done. It would be a risk, but I would come out the ruler, but instead of having it like my father had, there would not be a great empire trying to rule all the land, rather a series of nations helping each other.

"But I knew not how to achieve my plans. It was just a vague idea I had, and I knew that it could risk everything, and if something went wrong, we'd be doomed.

"Then _she _came. _She _had an answer. _She _was the world-traveler. She had been to many different worlds, parallel universes, all intertwined, and she could travel between them. She had seen many different things, and worlds she had been to seemed the answer to my plan. I would use magic, then I would reverse the spell, and l would form a new kingdom from the ashes of the empire.

"So I planted an idea in my father's mind. You read about in the scroll I left. He hated the idea, so I used _her _help. The Pine Marten from the other world. She could control him, force him to like the idea, so that's just what she did.

"And then she forced Xeymar to corrupt the idea. I never liked Xeymar Silvertung. He would be blamed for the mess, and I would be the hero.

"So it went. The creatures were changed to how it was in _her _world. And I would stop them. It would be simple to get the generals back together and free themselves."

The badger's grim expressions was replaced by a sorrowful one as he hung his head. "I failed. I created this back-up plan, and I created Salamandastron. But the land was in chaos. The generals were running amok, so I traveled to Plan B. I would put out the fire. I know give you permission to speak."

Mervo bit his lip, then shouted with all his might, the young fox snapped. "WHAT? YOU BETRAYED YOUR FAMILY, YOUR LAND, FOR YOUR OWN REASONS! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! I THOUGHT YOU WERE A NOBLE BADGER, AND YOU CERTAINLY SEEMED TO BE IN YOUR WRITINGS! NO DOUBT THE OTHERS, THE OTTERS, HARES, AND WHATNOT WORSHIPPED YOU! I SAW YOUR LETTERS! TELLING THEM NOT TO JOIN THE PLAN SO THEY WOULD HELP YOU LATER!"

The flames seemed to flare greater than they had before, then they dissipated. "I planned for it to work out in the–"

"OH, WHO CARES? YOU WERE A STUPID, FOOLISH, IDIOT! YOU ARE THE REASON VERMIN ARE BAD! IT'S NOT THEIR FAULT! IT'S THE FAULT OF ONE, SELFISH BADGER THAT WE LOOKED UP TO AS A HERO!"

"I was basing off of the Pine Marten's worlds–"

"I'M VERMIN! IF IT WASN'T FOR MY ANCESTOR, I WOULD BE JUST LIKE THOSE CRUEL ONES, AND THEY ARE CRUEL BECAUSE OF YOU! THERE IS NO EXCUSE FOR THIS! I HOLD YOU RESPONSIBLE, FOR YOU ARE!"

"I know, I–"

"OH, REALLY? YOU, ARBOR BROCK, ARE SCUM! YOU ARE WORSE THEN ALL THE VERMIN IN THE WORLD COMBINED! IF YOU KNEW, THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU FREE YOURSELF OF THE BLOODWRATH? YOU COULD'VE! AT LEAST SAVE THE BADGERS FROM THAT CURSE!"

"I didn't think it was necessary..."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?"

Arbor bit his lip. "I had two sons, Gordoc and Tabura. Tabura freed himself later, so I didn't think it was necessary."

"SO WHY ARE THERE STILL BLOODWRATHERS?"

Arbor hung his head. "I... disinherited him."

"YOU _WHAT?_"

Brock sighed. "Tabura found out what I was hiding. We got in a heated argument... I don't really remember the details, but I disinherited him in the end, then Tabura freed himself."

Mervo growled. "Tabura, that's a title..."

"Aye, those of his line mate with bloodwrathers, and their children have a chance to become peaceful."

Mervo regained his anger. "YOU DISINHERITED HIM! YOU LET HIM GO! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?"

"Listen, I was working on finding a solution to putting out the sacred flame."

"OH, HOW FAR DID YOU GET?" Mervo glared furiously at the badger.

Arbor frowned. "The cure to the spell, is the all-cure. That's wat I found. Nothing more."

Mervo frowned. It looked as if he would lash out again, but then he sank back down. _Oh my. I just did that... to a badger lord._

Lord Arbor looked ashamed, and he was. He gave a deep sigh. "Young Mervo-"

"You did good coming back. Even if it was the one good thing you did, it was a noble sacrifice."

"I... see. Anything more you would like to know?"

"What was the name of the Pine Marten world-traveler."

The fire-badger growled. He spat the name out like a bad word. "Igeyorhm."

Mervo nodded. Looking up he asked, "How do I get out of these tunnels?"

The badger frowned. I can get you to Hodbar."

"Hodbar?"

"'Tis a great Iron mine under the north mountain. Those there will help you."

Mervo looked up. "How do I get there?"

"The wisps in this cave will guide you."

"The-"

"Magic spirits. They gave you those impulses to go down through the forks and whatnot."

"Well, then I'll be off..."

The badger nodded. Then a great flash of blue fire filled the cave, then vanished, leaving behind a pitch-black circular room.


	26. Chapter XXV

**The Shore**

Occisor the Wroots leader and Zäev the Pine Marten were called to the attention of Emperor Silvertung for a council of war. Queen Dragwa and her toads refused to come until just before the final battle.

"Well, when will we begin? We've already basically defeated them," stated Occisor.

Vafír pointed at the great mountain fortress. "You think we can take that easily? This is a great fortress that I have never seen the likes of before. 'Twill be hard to crack, and if you don't believe me ask all the others that have tried to take it! Ferahgo the Assassin, who ruled the south. Dead! Windflin Wildbrush, terror of the seas. Dead!" Zäev bit his lip at the mention of his defeated ancestor. Vafír continued, "Ungatt Trunn, ruler of great hordes that could make the land shake and the stars fall. DEAD! All dead!"

The other two nodded their heads solemnly. Zäev asked, "So we wait until the disease has spread across the mountain?"

"Aye."

Occisor stroked his long goatee. "What if we tunnel–"

"Ferrahgo the Assassin."

"What if we surround the mountain, lure them–"

"Ripfang."

"Didn't Ripfang kill the badger lord though? And I mean, if you look at it another way, he technically won the fight. Yes, he himself died, but his crew didn't."

"And the few survivors were killed by the remaining hares on the mountain. Which was four! And two of them were hardly out of infancy!"

"They're noble beasts. Maybe we can get them to surrender to save the lives of the young-"

"Swartt Sixclaw."

"Bah! You know yer history, don't ye."

Occisor couldn't see it, but the fox grinned from the side of his mouth. "And it may save our lives. Zaev, how goes the trenches?"

"Good, sire. We've virtually surrounded the mountain with them, and we're working on trench from here to the swamps, so the toads and lizards can travel here in the trench's shade."

"Brilliant! Occisor, how as the Wroots been doing?"

"I have them scaling around the mountain, so if a single hare comes out they'll be killed instantly. I had some scouts sneak around through the crater, those that've come back informed me that the inhabitants have been hiding in their dorms, because of the disease, though many are still getting sick and some are dying."

"Good, good. Soon the mountain will fall!"

ooooooooooooo

Ergo the hermit gave a groan of despair as he smelled smoke. Skyflyer soared up and landed on his shoulder, whispering in his air.

The mole's groan deepened. His poor hut was burning to the ground.

"Burr, sandy blizzards. They carn't leave moi fam'ly alone, ever since moi ancestor, Ole Bungwen 'e 'Ermit."

Knowing what he had to do, the mole ran the opposite direction. Moles have never been known for great speed, but Ergo was spurred on by the sound of lizards chasing behind him.

"Yah! We are coming!"

Ergo ran harder, gasping for air. He just had to reach the hill where Bungwen lived, there he would be safe. But the lizards were gaining. Turning to the side, the lizards skidded forward, blowing sand in the air.

One lizard picked up a stone and flung. Ergo winced in pain as he stumbled and fell to the ground, Skyflyer leaping up and flying away. The last sight he saw before he lost consciousness was four lizards grinning over him, holding stones.

ooooooooooooo

Queen Dragwa stretched her pudgy legs and leaped across the swamp, landing with a splash in the muddy water. Feeling the ground, she frowned in disgust as she found the corpse of a rat who didn't watch his step and sunk. Shrugging, she swam around, catching a few flies on her meaty tongue.

Four lizards came up to her, holding an unconscious mole.

"Queen!" called one. "What would ye like uzz to do wid dis mole?"

The queen shrugged. "Rrrreb! Mebbe Silvertung wants 'im! Catch anyt'ink else?"

"Almost cot a birdy but it flew away."

Dragwa frowned. "Crroak! Well, wot're yew still 'ere fer? Go tie 'im up in a Blankethouse one of dose vermin brought!"

The lizards nodded and ran off to a tent. Dragwa sighed. Hopping away she looked to the sides and sunk herself under a specific area in the swamp.

She came out of the sludge deep underground, a cavern dug out by ancient toad artisans. A few other toads were in here, coming through the muddy secret passage. Toadplace, as they called it, was beautifully constructed. With damp, humid air, perfectly carved walls laced with Owado, gold and silver. The ground was covered with a bit of mud laced with topical for the feet. The toad queen let out a sigh of contention as her webbed feet sunk into the sludge.

Hopping to her quarters, she observed the portraits of past rulers, all the way to Crendo the Architect. The noble toad was wearing a pair of spectacles and a green tunic. The ruler just before her, her father, King Wargum, was fat, mean-faced, and resembled Dragwa very similarly.

Dragwa sighed. Her parents were gone now, to the quiet swamps. The toad queen looked sadly at their portraits. Shaking her bulbous head she hopped away to the most sacred room of the toads. The deepest down you could go was a massive, clean, clear underground pond. Insects and worms crawled around the cave ceiling, every so often falling down into the water and disappearing. In the water were the things precious to the toad clan, the young tadpoles. In the clear water it was easy to make them out, swimming happily.

One of her many siblings (they assumed), her brother called Migwod, hopped next to her, "Crrrrrroik! Queen, wot're ye doin'?"

"Rrreb. Thinkin'."

"Hmm... Wot woz it dat pa sed?"

"Never go to the shore?"

"No, da wun about other species."

"Crrroak! Ah. 'E said all bugs taste good."

"NO! Rrrreb! The wun 'bout mammals!"

"Ah," the ditzy, pompous queen understood. "'E sed ne'er trus' 'em! 'Speshally foxes. 'E sed dat ole Crendo used tuh be great, bud 'e trusted a fox and became not-great."

"Rrrreb! Yes, and..."

"We shoodent trus' foxes. I know, I've ne'er e'en spoken to a fox, crrroak!"

"Bah! Yer allied with a fox!"

The color drained from Dragwa's face. "Oh Budzees! I dot we were allowed tuh trus' white foxes dat were Bulgums!"

"Rrrreb! Pa said dat Crendo wuz tricked by a whitefox bulgum, 'amember?"

The remaining color in Dragwa's face drained. "Yer right! We need to kill dat whitefox bulgum, Crrrroik!"

**Salamandastron**

Lord Brawblade Wildstripe of Salamandastron strode proudly out of the great mountain. Behind him were his depleted Long Patrol, headed by Brigadier Bristlefur, all were shooting hate-laden glares at the horde of Silvertung. Then came the otters of the Rogue Crew, headed by Thorkrig Axehound, who's eyes widened at the sight of the slaves who were at spearpoint by the vermin. His daughter Verane, she had her knee split off! How could she fight again? Her and Marko's eyes were bloodshot and dry with tears.

Then came Hurqu, holding his battleaxe high with one gripper, followed by Brockhammer. The vermin were smirking through the entire exit of the mountain, but their smiles faltered at the site of another great badger, this one holding a great hammer that looked like it could squash the vermin as if you would squash a fly.

Amamo and Aar came next, clad in full armor. Aar had a claymore, while Amamo held his katana and stood next to the only other one who shared his weapon choice, the young hare Alfar. Findelo came, brandishing and elegant rapier, and Anera had a sling. Last came Tharius, proudly holding Martin's sword.

Vafir's eyes widened at the sight of the young squirrel. Tharius grinned at the fox, then lowered the sword at him, muttering, "You will pay."

Vafir, who had mastered lip-reading long ago nodded at the squirrel, his malicious grin matching the prince's.

The fox's attention was diverted by the _whump_ of Brawblade's great sword hitting the sand right in front of the emperor.

"Silvertung, you have threatened my mountain. You and your scum come here to take over. But know that the great Salamandastron will not fall!"

"Today," said Silvertung calmly.

Brawblade looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the mountain will not fall today. Nor tomorrow. Nor the day after that. But by the end of the seventh day, I will be ruler of Salamandastron, you're charred remains will be thrown to sea, and your subjects will be my slaves. I promise you this."

Brawblade growled. The massive badger stood tall, dwarfing the fox. "I could slay you now."

"And give away your honor?" the Emperor indicated his empty scabbard. "I am unarmed. And know that you are surrounded and your subjects will be slaughtered."

The badger growled again. "Fox! You will regret this! You will die!"

"Tut-tut. You're losing your head, dear Badger Lord. Your food stores are falling. The mountain is surrounded. When you return, any of your subjects that leaves will be killed by the Wroots. You are outnumbered and a disease is taking your mountain. I promise you, you will lose this war."

Brawblade looked down at Vafir. There was no pity or mercy in the violet eyes of the fox, just cold hard truth. The fox grinned at him.

"Now, I give you five-score seconds to get in the mountain, starting... now."

The badger lord and his subjects hastily retreated back into the fortress. A young hare tripped and fell on a rock in the mad scramble, and nobody noticed him as the gates closed.

"Four... three... two...one," Vafir finished his countdown and held a white paw in the air.

Nearly forty arrows flew true. The crawling young hare resembled a pincushion by the time the fox emperor put his paw down.


	27. Chapter XXVI

**Mossflower**

Abbess Fern, Foremole, Mallow, and the two Wiltuds stood over Darkfang the fox.

"So, you say you can get is in Redwall?"

"Aye, dat's right."

"Hmm... And you won't just tell us to walk through the destroyed wall? They've got guards all around there."

Darkfang snickered. "Heehee! Dis never woulda 'appened if Darkblood lived. But Griv fergot all about it! If it wasn't for Firak, they wouldn't even 'ave guards up! Foller me!"

The fox got up and started walking, Borgy Wiltud behind him holding a knife. The fox fingered his long black tooth as he walked into the woods. He pointed forward. "Ye use dis, see?"

The trebuchet was there with a few projectiles. The wolverine had completely forgot about it.

Abbess Fern shook her head. "No! We'd destroy are abbbey!"

Darkfang shrugged. "Ye'll kill a lot o' dose 'un's inside o' dere, an' get in de abbey. Nothin' ye can't fix."

The Abbess put her paw on the trebuchet. "This is a weapon of destruction. We could never use it."

Mudgell Wiltud walked up to her. "It's not so bad. They used somethin' like this to take- hey where's the satchel of berries I'd gather go?"

Borgy looked side to side, then called, "It's that fox! He's getting away!"

The Wiltud's started running wildly into the forest. Abbess Fern bit her lip and a tear fell down her face. She looked at the trebuchet. "What will I do?

ooooooooooooo

Darkfang the fox snickered after he had ran far enough and sat on the grass, chewing on a few berries. "Heehee! Ah, gud food, an' lots o' freedom, dat's de life fer me! Mebbe I can hike all de way to Silvertung an' tell 'im wot Beastcrusher's doin'! He'd probably make me cap'n! Yeah, Cap'n Darkfang! I like de soun' o' dat!"

In his ramblings, the fox failed to notice a large group of rats sneak up behind him.

"Painted Ones, attack!"

**Redwall**

Friar Durglo passed out plates with scones covered in jam and dollops of meadow cream to Griv Beastcrusher and his captains. While the wolverine hardly touched his food, his captains hungrily tore at the delicious scones. Captain-in-Chief Firak even almost said, "Thank you," to Friar Durglo, before being silenced by a glare from Griv.

The wolverine turned to the dormouse. "What is this?"

"Sc-scones, with pu-pu-pu-pumpkin spice an' strawberry jam an' meadow cream. M-my own re-re-recipe," squeaked the little fat friar.

Griv growled. "Where's the real food?"

"R-r-real food?"

"Some fish, or bird, or other meat."

Durglo bit his lip. "The p-p-pond is almost overfished. Y-you ate too much an' w-w-w-we nee' to give 'em time to repopulate. An' we didn't catch any birds, either. They're scared o' this place now."

Griv dropped his head to Durglo's face, his awful breath filling the poor dormouse's nostrils. He then looked to his captains. "Well, 'e says we can't get no fish or birds. But we can still get up a bit o' good red meat!"

The captains chuckled nervously. They quite liked Durglo's cooking, and didn't want to see the dormouse dead. Griv grinned and held up his huge and deadly claws above Durglo. The dormouse promptly fell to the floor and started whimpering.

"Err, sire," said Firak, trying to save the poor Friar's life. "Wot if we go on a big hunt, with half the horde. We can go an' fish in the rivers, shoot sum birds, an' the whole 'orde gets fed well. We might even find those woodlanders that escaped, and the horde is gettin' a little bored. The other half will just guard the abbey, like.

Griv sighed; his fun spoiled. Lowering his claws, he grumbled, "Ah, fine. Weaseltail, go and git half the horde. Two 'undred fifty, right?"

The stoat captain Weaseltail shook his head. "Nah, we lost two 'undred in the battle to get 'ere, so it's actually one 'undred."

Firak sighed. "One 'undred _fifty, _Weaseltail! But it doesn't matter, go!"

oooooooooooooo

"Bah, couldn't find dat fox anywhere!" called Borgy, returning to the Abbess and Mallow.

Mallow shrugged. "Good thing we didn't take him to Saint Ninian's. Ah well, where's Mudgell?"

As if on cue, the hedgehog dashed up to them. "The vermin are cummin'! Over five-score of 'em. Wot shood we do?"

"Dat fox, warned 'em, I'm sure of it," called Borgy.

Abbess frowned. "Maybe we could lay a trap. We know this country more than them."

Mudgell's distressed face. "Yew two git back to the church. The Wiltuds know Mossflower better than anyone, hoho, I feel bad fer dose vermin already!"

ooooooooooooo

Weaseltail the stoat was proud to be in charge of the hunting party. Coming to the River Moss, the vermin happily began fishing.

"Hey, I got one!" called a ferret.

"Me too! Cum 'ere, dis is a big fish!"

Amidst the vermin's jolliness, they failed to notice as the Wiltuds snuck past them, even when Borgy pulled some fur of the neck of a rat. Heading upstream, the hedgehogs got to their desired destination. It was a very old otter camp, with rotting wood and an ancient fire place. A message was scratched into a fallen tree. _Welcome to Camp Willow!_

The hedgehogs crept around the camp's remains to where a pair of sluicegates lay broken. Still, though. What it was holding, or holding its ancestors still lived in the area. It was a monster pike, bred from greatest of pikes. His shiny white razor teeth shone from his black hide.

The hedgehogs were a little nervous doing what they were doing. Biting his lip, Borgy pulled out the bit of fur he pulled off the rat and tossed it into the water. The pike's keen nose immediately picked up the scent and sped off into the water, intent on finding the rat.

ooooooooooooo

A ferret called Ragclaw laughed in joy as he got a bit on his line. He pulled it back and to his delight he found whatever he had caught was quite heavy. "Hey, mateys! Dis is gonna be a good one, I t'ink!"

There was a yelp as Ragclaw was pulled into the water. The vermin started laughing, until they saw red mist appear floated from the spot the ferret had fallen. A grim silence overtook them, until there was another cry as a stoat was pulled in.

The river erupted in chaos. The fishers immediately let go of their rods, and ran back, though some not in time. Two rats went down to the pikes killer teeth.

"Hey!" called Weaseltail. "Git back there! Ye 'ave weapons, don't ye?"

The vermin seemed to realize their situation. Holding his spear up, a weasel called Bludlug called, "Beastcrusher! Beastcrusher! Death and Bloodshed!"

Bludlug lead the charge as the vermin waded into the water, so he was the first to die. His footpaw was grabbed by the pike and he was pulled under screaming. The other vermin broke ranks and charged about madly in the water, some scrambling to get out, some hacking at the river's floor with their weapons, foolishly standing still.

Weaseltail growled. Grabbing a javelin from a rat, the stoat captain ran forward to where the last cry was heard. Holding the javelin up high, the pike leaped from the water and tore at his stomach, Weaseltail fell to the water, dead.

The air was littered with vermin cries as the pike set about them, killing its attackers as they tried to flee.

Back in the forest, the Wiltuds chuckled at the sounds. Mudgell said, "Wot a nice type, fer a pike. Good of him to eat dose vermin fer us."

"Aye," added Borgy. "I'm namin' 'im Razor Wiltud!"

"Yer not namin' 'im Razor Wiltud, 'coz I'm namin' 'im Sharkscale Wiltud!"

"No, ye ain't! 'Is name is Razor!"

"Sharkscales!"

"Razor!"

And so it went, as Wiltuds bicker like Dibbuns over food.


	28. Chapter XXVII

**The Tunnels Far Underground**

Erzvin the Scholar and Zeela the healer were sitting, backs to the rock wall, whimpering. Their son, gone! All were with them, except Ilia the squirrel, who had gone off to scout.

Rivertunnel otter put a paw on their shoulder. "'Tis not over yet. Mayhaps only the entrance caved in, not all of it."

Zeela's shoulders were shaking. "What about air? You can't live without it!"

The big otter shrugged. "Sometimes there's a little pocket of air you can hold on to."

Darrow and Tinsel were next to the foxes, comforting them. Sister Chamomile was shivering from the damp cold and of fear. Bungle the mole was digging at the rock wall, trying to get through.

"Hurr, Oi jus' moight make et! Dig a bit more..."

Ilia the squirrel returned, the only excited one. Holding a second torch up, she said, "Hey, hey! I just found a place where the floor keeps going upward, and it may be a way it!"

The fox parents looked up at her tears streaming down their faces, glaring at the squirrel, dampening her cheery attitude. However Sister Chamomile quickly got up and started running down the paths.

"Hurr, Oi made et!" came Bungle's voice from the other side of the rock wall.

Erzvin and Zeela's haste to get through the hole outmatched Chamomile's run. Scrambling through the hole, they breathed sighs of relief, glad that air was in the cave.

Rivertunnel followed them in, but Darrow and Tinsel got stuck. "Aaah, 'tis the curse of bein' Wiltud!" called Darrow. Climbing out, he said, "Mebbe we should foller Ilia and Chamomile, would that be good?" When Erzvin nodded, they ran off through the paths.

"Whew!" called Erzvin, relief running through his body. "Let's go find our son!"

oooooooooooooo

Mervo was running even faster than before, his legs a blur. Through the pathways, spurred on by the wisps of magic. During his run he tried to piece together what Arbor told him.

_So he wanted to take down Iro's empire because it was corrupt, and then organize a new nation. Okay. He planned to make part of the empire against the rest. But he didn't know how to do anything, or who would be against the rest. Then a pine marten called Igeyorhm traveled from another world... what does that mean? Maybe we're one of a series of many worlds? Hmm... But in Igeyorhm's world vermin like her were evil... why did Arbor trust her, if he knew she was evil? Maybe she bended the truth a bit... But she could use mind control somehow. So they gave Iro an idea, then controlled Xeymar to bend the idea. Aaargh! Scummy badger! So then they used magic, and all us... vermin... became evil._

_Bah! And the all-cure? What's that even supposed to mean? And Hodbar mine? What am I-"  
_

"Aaaaaah!" Mervo tripped and fell in the pitch black cave, down a hole in the floor.

The young fox looked up. Just before he lost consciousness he saw four armor-clad moles walking slowly towards him.

oooooooooooooo

Chamomile kissed the ground as she surfaced. "Oh joy! Oh, we're free!"

Ilia chuckled. She was the more sensible cousin to Holly, and cheerier. "Whew! 'Tis good to be out of that dreary cave!"

Darrow chuckled. "Aye. But look around. We're in the middle of Mossflower, I have no clue where we are. Looks a bit like we're a while south."

Tinsel nodded. "Aye, the south. But what do we do? Head north, or..."

"Oooooooooooooooooooh,

We're free! We're free!

We're free from tyranny!

Oh, We've come a long way,

We've done many things,

We were once slaves,

But now look, we're free!

We're free! We're free!

We're free from tyranny!

The whip hits yer back!

Ye're carryin' somethin' heavy!

Yer gittin' food for another beast!

But now we don't have to endure these things...

Because we're free!

We're free! We're free!

We're free from tyranny!

Hundreds of woodlanders, with a few scatterings of vermin we're prancing through the woods, singing merrily. In front of them was a young otter and weasel. The weasel came up to the four and held out his paw. "Hello. My name is Bluenose, we're the Foufs. Freed Ones United For Southsward, y'see. Have you heard of a Vafir Silvertung? We've sworn revenge on him."

**Redwall**

The remains of Weaseltail's group returned to Redwall in a poor state. Griv failed to notice this, and called out, "Where's my food?"

A brawny ferret called Bludtail seemed to have taken control of the group. He threw a basket with the four fish they caught before the pike had attacked at Griv's feet.

The wolverine ravenously and messily devoured all four fish, blood over his face, then growled at the ferret. "Any more? An' wot 'appened to Weaseltail?"

"Weaseltail's dead," replied the ferret.

Griv shrugged. "Wot about food? That river should have been teemin' wid fish."

A rat behind Bludtail said, "Well ye could say dat..."

Griv growled at the rat, silencing him. Returning to Bludtail, he said, "Tomorrow I want ye to go back out an' git me sum more fish, an' birds, too."

The wolverine stalked off. Firak, who noticed the group's poor affair, walked up to Bludtail. "Wot's 'appened?"

The ferret sighed. "'Twas goin' good, then a monster pike attacked us! Killed poor Ragclaw an' Dedlug an' Weaseltail, and a bunch o' others."

Firak bit his lip. "Hmmm... An' Griv didn't even seem to notice, 'cept fer Weaseltail. We lost sum good mateys today. 'Ow big wuz dis pike?"

"Massive! He ate over a score of us, an' he's still 'ungry! An' we 'ave to go back tomorrow!"

Firak growled. He used to look up to the wolverine leader, but comparing him to Emperor Silvertung, he realized the fox was much better. "Hmmm... I t'ink we need to do sumthin' 'bout Griv Beastcrusher..."


	29. Chapter XXVIII

**Salamandastron**

"Ach, this wee soup ain't 'alf bad!" called Hurqu, supping down his third bowl of hotroot.

The Rogue Crew otters laughed. "You haven't had a drink to cool your mouth off, how do you do it?" Krudeblade asked.

Guzzling a fourth bowl, the goat said, "Och, this is like water to me! Now back oop north we had the real stuff, more 'otroot then soup, an' all supped down! Ach, 'twas the guid soup there!"

The otters chuckled again. "Ah, 'tis dark times," said Thorkrig Axehound. "But Salamandastron has gotten through worst. Blue hordes? Corpsemakers? Oh, they made corpses all right, their own!"

The otters and goat erupted in laughter. "Yer right," said Thirstblade. "Wot d'we 'ave to fear?

oooooooooooooo

"Silvertung!" growled Lord Brawblade, splitting a shield in two with his mighty sword. "The mountain will fall in seven days? Preposterous. Something good will come!"

A knock resounded on his wooden door. Furiously the badger lord wrenched it open, almost breaking the door off its hinges. "What is– Harris?"

A young hare was looking up at the badger with wide tear-brimmed eyes. "L-l-lord, I-I–"

"Didn't you get the disease, you and your sister?"

The hare nodded shakily. "B-but somehow I'm better. Just out-of-the-blue, wot! One minute I was on the verge of going insane, the next I'm completely fine."

The badger nodded. "Things like this happen. Your body must have fought it off, all the good exercise from running."

The young hare erupted in tears. "Didn't 'elp me ole sis! Or General Tenac, or Madame Rhys! Oh, they're dead! Just not breathin' any more. An' the rest of the 'ares in there are g-goin' mad, or dyin', or v-vomitin' everywhere! An' ole Albert's dead, an' Kyle, an'–"

Brawblade sighed in despair. "What are we to do, Harris De Mayne?"

The young hare shrugged. "I don't know, not in the slightest! Lord, wot if the fox wins?"

Brawblade growled in his throat. "He won't. The fox and his blasted horde will die, and we will avenge your sister, and the General, and Madame Rhys, and all the others."

**The Swamp**

The tent Ergo was kept in fell over, and the tied and gagged mole looked up to find a pudgy toad with a silver crown on her head looking down at him. "Rrrrreb! D'ye the fox wants ye?"

The mole nodded vigorously, then tried to change his head to a shake when Dragwa said, "Good."

The toad queen pulled his gag and bonds off then pointed to the shore. "Crrroik! Run!"

Ergo needed no second bidding. Taking care to not sink in the swamp, he ran as fast as his stubby mole legs would carry him.

ooooooooooooo

The Grubloes, the toads' word for their group of archers, were elite marksmen. They patrolled the edge of the swamp, shooting at any non-toad or non-lizard that came near. The didn't have much targets, but the queen enforced it.

Queen Dragwa was in Toadplace with her council, made entirely up of her younger siblings, with the exception of her uncle, Gogzo, who was the oldest toad in the swamp.

"The fox will pay for 'is tricks!" called Migwod.

"Yes, but we must be cautious," said Gogzo.

"Wot'd'ye mean, nuncle?" asked a toad sister called Burja.

The old toad elaborated. "Whitefox is Bulgum! 'E cood light swamp on fire."

The queen slapped her head with her forefoot. "O' course! Good o' yew to 'amember dat, nuncle."

"So, wot'd'we do?" asked Migwod.

"Crrroik!" called the youngest toad (by like a minute), Sanlo. "We trick 'im o' course! We tell 'im we're 'is friends, den once 'e's surrounded, we kill 'im wid tridents and Grubloes!"

The toads considered the idea, then Dragwa laughed. "But 'e's Bulgum, silly! 'E'll make de tridents an' Grubloe shafts cum back an' 'it us!"

Sanlo let his head hang. "I though it wuz a gud idea. Maybe Bulgums can't make tridents cum back an' 'it us."

Dragwa chuckled. "Jus' wait 'till yer old an' wise like us!"

Sanlo looked up. "I'm so excited! Soon all be all smart like you!"

Gogzo chuckled. "Rrrreb! Wot if we git a Bulgum of our own! Der's got t'be at least one Bulgum in alla de toads inna swamp!"

Dragwa giggled. "See? Nuncle's de oldest, an' de wisest!"

"'Ey!" cried Migwod. "Wot if we set up a testing area fer all de toads to take, to see if der Bulgum!"

"Great idea, crroik!" called Burja. "Let's do it!"

The toads hopped off to their plans, with the exception of Sanlo, who sat squelching the mud down with his webbed feet. "I still think I had a gud idea. Whitefox seems like the kind to think alla toads are guggies" (The toad word for one who isn't too bright) "dat wouldn't t'ink of a gud plan, an' would overlook us as threats. But, 'ey. I'm not old an wise, so I'm probably wro- 'ey, where'd dey go? Rrrreb! Wait up!"

**Salamandastron**

Alfar Miggory was learning how to care for his katana much better from Amamo.

"Choji oil? Wot kinda name is that, wot?"

"Well, no wonder your katana's in that shape, you 'aven't been usin' Choji Oil!"

"Are all the names from your land like that?"

"'Course not! Now pass me that Nuguigami, please."

"Nuguig-wot?"

"Nuguigami! That soft tissue, put it right there. And keep your Uchiko ball in reach, please!"

"This thing? Ah. Okay, now wot?"

"Now put the Choji oil on your wiping cloth...

"Ah!"

"Oh great, you've gone and spilled it everywhere! Don't worry, I have more Choji oil, it's okay..."

oooooooooooooo

By the time they were finished Alfar was drenched in Choji oil, with a ground stone from the Uchiko ball all over him. But he had to admit, his katana looked much better. "Thank you, Amamo, wot wot!"

"Ah, 'tis nuthin'! Good care of your weapons is most important!"

"So wot 'appened to the claymore I lent you, eh?" came Aar Krullen's voice from outside the door.

The rabbit chuckled nervously. "Err... heheh, weeeeeeeell... I sorta lost the scabbard, got caught in a tree, an' then all my cleaning materials vanished..."

"You lost the scabbard and the cleaning materials when we went over the rapids, an' me sword got beat up afore that!"

"Yes, yes, yer right. But, ye see, I was busy cleanin' all my katana's, an' they were all quite dirty..."

"They were not!"

"They were!"

"They were all in a separate scabbard perfectly made and you hadn't taken them out for a season! And before you put them in, you cleaned them completely!"

"Bah! Fine! I fergot to take care of the claymore! Who knew it would get that dull!"

"I did! When I lent it to you, I said, if ye don't care fer it, it will become to dull to use! Me exact words!"

"No! Ye said 'If ye don't care fer it, it will become so duel, ye can't use it!"

"Aargh! Wotever!"

"Wadda ya mean, wotever?"

Alfar chuckled at the two friends bickering. Decided it was time to break things up, he said, "I was told they're makin' scones 'bout this time!"

Amamo bolted through the door, running after Aar Krullen, leaving Alfar to admire his prized weapon. Holding it above his head, he swiped it down fast, nicking the wood of his bed. "Heheh. I like this- woah!"

A villainous looking water rat head appeared in his window. Giving a yelp, Alfar slashed his katana down, catching the rat on the head, who fell down the mountain with a scream. The hare looked out the mountain and to his horror he saw many water rats scaling the rock.

One looked at him. "Young hare, we will not harm you lest you leave your mountain or sound the alarm. Now, forget about this and return to your life."

Alfar's eyes glazed back as he fainted.

**The Shore**

"Emperor Vafír Silvertung," said Zäev. "We have completed the trench to the swamps, though one of our workers somehow died, an arrow in his throat."

Sanlo was right, Vafír did not hold the toads in high regard. Believing that they could not have done it, he said, "Blast it! The hares have somehow gotten out, or we have an unforeseen enemy. But how? The Wroots are patrolling the mountain! Maybe they have strange tunnel, if any place would have one it would be Salamandastron. Why didn't we think of that?"

"Now, it may not be the hares. Maybe there's some old hermit on this coast that's our enemy, or a scout that was out when we began the siege, or something similar."

The white fox nodded his head. "You may be right, my general. How goes with the rooting out of the liars, or to use the toad word, banzees?"

The pine marten was glad to give some good news. "Quite well, actually. A few of the blue hordes, mostly, along with Scumsnout the weasel. I'm planning on sending Bloodtoe and Skri to Dethfur's crew."

"Hmm... How much of the Blue Hordes do we have?"

"A good bit over two-thousand, sire."

The fox growled. "Blast it, they outnumber us. We don't have the safety the swamp grants out here.

Zaev shrugged. "Not much you can do. Once we take the mountain we can bring more from the south, then we'll outnumber them."

"You are right, my general. Thank you."

"Hmm... What if- Bloodtoe, what are you doing here?"

The gray rat had a scowl on his blood-splattered face. "Clawd, remember him?"

The emperor and his general nodded. "Aye," said the pine marten. "He's that stoat with the eye patch, right, leader of the gang far south."

Bloodtoe nodded. "He's scummier than Scumsnout. We were investigatin' Dethfur's bunch, an' when we were walkin' back to the tent to discuss our evidence, the stoat attacked us from behind. Killed Skri with 'is sword real fast, she didn't have a chance to block 'im." The rat indicated a gash on his face where the blood was leaking from. "'E' got me here. I tried to turn and attack him, but 'e was running real fast. I through a few knives, but 'e dodged 'em, 'cept that one got 'is shoulder. 'E ran down the shore, trouble, 'e is."

Zaev growled. "Gaw! We were thinking Clawd would do something, but this was unexpected."

ooooooooooooo

Clawd was running for his life down the coast. "Heehee!" He pulled out his long siletto and washed it in the sea. "I could become an assassin, taking out that fox's 'orde! Back in the south we were livin' good, but 'e made us serve 'im. Time fer revenge!"

The stoat finished washing his weapon and began walking inland. Seeing the border of the swamp, he said to himself, "Wot if I got the toads to 'elp? Might be worth a shot."

Going into a run, he wasn't expecting the Grubloe toad archer's arrow that ended his ambitions forever.


	30. Chapter XXIX

**The Swamp**

"Rrrreb! Step up! Bulgum needed!" came the voice of Migwod.

"Crrrroik! We need Bulgum! Cum fer de toads!" added Burja.

The toads made a ring for the Bulgum testing. Dragwa hopped into the middle, and listened to the praises of her great horde.

"Draaaaaaaaaaagwa! Draaaaaaaaaaagwa! The Queendom! The Queendom! Draaaaaaaaaaaaaagwa!"

Dragwa basked in their praise. "Toads! Whitefox Bulgum is a threat! We need our own Bulgum to fight him! Haven't had a toad bulgum since Gancho, brother of Crendo, but we can git one! Rrrrreb! Bulgum!"

The toads cheered. The queen hopped back to her ring as another toad hopped up. He was a big fat one, Dragwa's cousin. "I'm Webtoes, first contestant!"

The toads cheered.

Webtoes took a deep breath and held it in, his cheeks and throat swelling. His eyes looked side to side as he slowly squelched into the swamp. Dragwa rolled her great eyes. "Clearly not Bulgum, crrrrroik!"

Webtoes frowned and jumped away. Migwod came after, a foolish grin on his face. He did as his cousin did, holding his breath and waiting foolishly for something to happen.

Gogzo sighed. "No! We need Bulgum! Bulgum come!"

A score of toads had attempted, all holding their breath and waiting for something to happen. Sanlo the toad sighed. He had read some of Gancho Bulgum's journals, and knew that Bulgum powers were used by closing your eyes and channeling with all your might in a completely silent place, so the toads were going all wrong. But maybe they were right. They were older than Sanlo, and therefore wiser.

Sanlo hopped to the edge of the swamp, where the Grubloes patrolled. A dead stoat with an eyepatch was being dragged back. One of the Grubloe, a lean toad called Bogwog, said, "Dis 'un's o' de fox's group. Tried to git back 'ere, Prince Sanlo."

The toad nodded. He grabbed the stilleto from his limp paw. Feeling it in his hand, he chuckled. This was good for him! He couldn't manage a big trident, nor a flimsy Grubloer.

"Haha! Crrrrroik, the is the weapon for me!"

**The Edge of Mossflower**

Srav the ferret was a young, bright and extremely fast and enduring member of Silvertung's horde. He was completely loyal to the horde and his emperor, admiring the white fox. He was cheerful and smart, and was made Silvertung had taken a liking to him. He had been running constantly, only stopping twice for a four-hour nap and a small meal.

Still cheerful, he bounded through Mossflower woods, making sure he stayed stealthy in case anything attacked him. His task was to warn Darkblood of the threat of Griv's betrayal.

"Heehee! Sacrifice! The Golden One demands sacrifice!" came a young, squeaky voice.

Srav stopped and listened. He heard the beating of drums (_Bom. Bom. Bom-bom-bom-bom-bom-bom-BOM. BOM-bom-bom-BOM. BOM-BOM-BOM-BOM-_BOM_!_), and a flare as a fire was lit, he could see through the trees. There was more loud squeaks, and then a yelp of fear, he guessed belonged to a fox.

The ferret crouched down and snuck towards the sound in perfect stealth. Surveying the scene, he got his information.

Hundreds of runty rats covered in a rainbow of natural dyes were surrounding an incredible bonfire. On a stretcher was a small rat, young, the only visible parts of him not covered in paints were his eyes, lips, fangs, and when he opened his mouth, tongue. On a tall wood sculpture to the right of the rat was a crudely crafted pure golden statue of a rat. Tied to a large oak was a fox.

"Oh, I've seen him before," muttered Srav. His eyes fell on the black fang protruding from the fox's mouth. "Ah, that's Darkfang, he was in the same gang I was afore we joined Silvertung... Hmm... I should free him, but how?"

oooooooooooooo

Darkfang the fox was miserable. Just when it seemed like he was going to be living large, the Painted Ones had caught him. And now he would be sacrificed, painfully burned to death, listening to those booming drums and laughing rats.

"Hey, matey, remember me?" came a voice behind him.

The fox nearly jumped at the familiar voice. He turned his head to see a grinning ferret. "Srav, me old matey, wot're you doing here?"

Srav chuckled. "Saving you, what else?"

Darkfang was surprised. He wouldn't risk his life for some other beast, though looking back, Srav was the type that would. "Wot're ye doin' 'ere?"

Srav grinned. "Emperor told me to go check on General Darkblood, says he thinks General Griv Beastcrusher will try to take over."

Darkfang growled. "Already 'appened, Darkblood's dead. 'Ere, matey. You don't 'ave to go all the way to Redwall, just free me an' take me to Silvertung, I'll tell 'im wot's goin' on."

The ferret nodded. "Top plan! Now I just need a distraction..." Srav vanished into the foliage.

Darkfang sighed and his eyes strayed to the Golden One. Then they went to the fire, big, blazing, and dangerous. A foolish rat got too close, then tripped in their dance and fell in with a dreadful scream, the flames engulfing him. Darkfang's eyes began going back to the Golden One, but then... it was missing!

He felt the ropes binding him to the tree go loose and heard Srav's voice again. "Don't run yet. Just wait... wait..."

"Aiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee!" cried a rat, pointing at the mount of the Golden One. The drums, singing, and dancing suddenly stopped as the rats turned to the mount and realized what was going on.

"Genno!" called the small rat on the stretcher in their own tongue, pointing the direction of the mount. "GENNO VOLZEN CHUN! COOV, COOV, COOV!" (Missing! MISSING GOLDEN ONE! RUN, RUN, RUN!"

The horde ran off in the direction of the mount, northeastward.

"Now!" said Srav.

The fox and the ferret ran west towards the western plains, Srav chuckled as he held the Golden One. "Whew! We tricked them, all right. Now let's get going to Sil-"

"Aiiieeeee! Scoop, scoop, cors Volzen Chun!" (Escape, escape, has Golden One!) came a voice of a rat that was slower than the others and noticed their getaway.

"Blast it!" growled Srav. "I jinxed us, definitely."

The ferret and the fox dashed through the foliage, spurred on by the thunder of the Painted One's footpaws. Darkfang noticed how the ferret was going slower than usual so he could keep up with him. That was what Srav did.

"The plains!" shouted the ferret.

Breaking through the foliage they ended on the plains, with more space they were able to run much faster. Chuckling, they began running to the mountains. There they could lose the rats, who were more accustomed to the forest.

ooooooooooooo

The rats were not even accustomed to the plains. Used to jumping from tree to tree, their run was awkward as they constantly ran into each other or tripped and fell to the ground.

The leader of the Painted Ones, Young Azvemeth, yelped in fear as his stretcher bearers tripped and he was sent flying into his horde.

The rats stopped their run to make sure their leader was okay.

Young Azvemeth growled. "They will pay for stealing the Golden One! We will send them to Vulpuz where they will suffer for eternity!"


	31. Chapter XXX

**The Mines of Hodbar**

"Mien! Mien!

Smith! Smith!

Ierun! Ierun!

Hodbar! Hodbar!

Pickackses! Pickackses!

Vunderfall thangs!

Hemmers! Hemmers!

Brillient thangs!

Mien! Mien!

Smith! Smith!

Hodbar vill vin faereffer!"

Mervo groggily woke to the sounds of the song. Blinking, he asked, "What? How? Arbor!"

"Hmm? What about Arbor?" came a familiar voice.

This was all needed to fully wake up the young fox. His father was near him. Leaping from the cot he was on, he leaped into his smiling parents arms.

"Oh, glad to see you back," said Zeela.

Mervo nodded. Joy rushed through his body, healing the woods he had. Then a dark thought cast through his mind as he remembered Arbor Brock's tale.

The young fox bit his lip. "Mother, father, I have something to tell you..."

oooooooooooo

"THAT BADGER!" cried Zeela, as Erzvin winced from the loud sound.

"HE WAS A FOOL! DOOMED HIS OWN RACE, TOO! HE JUST THINKS THIS IS OKAY?"

"No, he–" began Mervo, then stopped himself when he realized that he was defending Arbor. "You're right."

Zeela nodded. "WHAT WAS HE THINKING?"

"That he was trying to save the empire," answered Erzvin, but was silenced by a glare from his family members.

"Hurr, well we can't do anything 'bout it," said Bungle the mole.

"Aye," agreed easy-going Rivertunnel. "Wot's done is done. But we can do something about it. He talked about an all–"

"OF COURSE YOU DON'T THINK IT'S THAT BAD, YOU'RE NOT... VERMIN... LIKE–"

"Vell, I see the yung focks hass avoken," came a strange accent, as a tall, strong mole walked into the room-cavern.

The three foxes, otter, and mole stopped in awkward silence as the mole came in.

Still smiling, the mole said, "I em Villyemm uv Hodbar Mien."

Rivertunnel frowned as he muttered to the others, "Can hardly understand 'em with their accent, especially their songs."

The others nodded their agreement, except for Mervo. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, I understand them just fine, doesn't sound like a–"

"Vood yew liek a toor uv Hodbar?" asked Villyemm.

"Err... sure," replied Mervo.

Villyemm's smile widened. "Cumm vith mee. I vill show yew thee graettest mien Noen."

ooooooooooooooo

As the moles mined, they sung songs in tune with the beating of their pickaxes. Their dialect was so strong Burgle, Erzvin, Zeela, and Rivertunnel could hardly understand, but while Mervo noticed their was something strange about it, it sounded like his own dialect to him.

"Hodbar, Hodbar, Hodbar,

Vunder efree vare.

Hodbar, Hodbar, Hodbar,

Ife spent mie hool lief heere!

Ierun, mien fahr Ierun,

Maek summ picks and hemmers!

Cool, cool, mien fahr summ cool,

Keepe thee fierss burnayng!

Fier, fier, smith vith fier,

And summ Ierun too!

Smith mennie thangs to mien,

Put them too graet uess!

Poetasyum, potasyum, blow potasyem–"

_BOOM!_

"Put too graet... auld... uess!

Hodbar!"

"What in the name of the Land of Ice and Snow was that?" asked Erzvin, wiping dust from his face. A great explosion

Villyemm chuckled. He grabbed a handful of gray powder from a bowl and let it sift through his fingers. "Potasyum powder. Vith vahter it exploedss, let's uss mien faster."

The others nodded their head, except Rivertunnel, who looked grim. "Argh, mateys! This stuff is wot I think the vermin used!"

Recognition dawned on them. "Yes," agreed Erzvin. "It is."

Villyemm looked confused. "Vaht yew meen?" the mole asked in his drawling dialect.

The travelers explained their whole situation, with Silvertung, Darkblood, the vermin, and the state the abbey was in.

The mole nodded sadly, his smile had faded away. "Ie feel sahrroe, mie frents. Vaht ken vee doo too help?"

Rivertunnel answered, "We need to get to Salamandastron, help those there."

Zeela shook her head. "We need to find the all-cure."

Villyemm nodded. "Cumm. Ie vill take yew to our leedar."

ooooooooooooooo

"All haell thee grate and mietee Hiemiener Alvladd!" called Villyemm, showing them into a cavern.

Highminer Alvladd was a proud sight, standing in front of a silver throne with velvet cushions. The mole was much taller and broad-shouldered then the common mole, he was a bit larger than Rivertunnel, the largest of the travelers. He wore a long scarlet cloak with flowing designs in a lighter shade covering it. Underneath he wore a dark green buttoned tunic and a belt with a silver buckle, and dark brown pants. He wore great boots covered in designs made from pure gold. His crown was mighty, made from all manner of ores and decorated with brilliant gems, emeralds, sapphires, and so on. In his right paw he carried a pickax nearly the size of Mervo, and in his left he carried a massive hammer made of iron, even larger than the pickax. Under the crown was a noble face with a strong jaw and thick beard covering his dark fur. His mouth was neither smile nor frown, so they knew not yet what he thought of them. The only color below the crown and above his neck was his, eyes a brilliant dark green lit with a fire the travelers had seen in warriors such as Skipper Tunger and the Tapestry of Martin the Warrior.

The great mole spoke in a booming, powerful voice, with an accent different than those of his moles. "You come to my mine, the Great Hodbar? Why did you come here?"

The travelers first reaction was to point at Mervo, as they were following him. The young fox took a nervous step forward.

Highminer Alvladd took a step forward and touched his forehead, closing his eyes deeply. After many moments, the Highminer said, "So young, yet so wise. Still, you have much to learn." The mole walked back and sat on his throne, settling into the cushions and setting the pickax and hammer to the side. "I have learned your tale, and I know Arbor sent you, and I know what you must do."

The travelers, and Villyemm, looked forward eagerly. "Hurr, wot is it," asked Bungle eagerly.

The mole pointed a strong claw at Zeela. "You are a great healer. You have knowledge of herbs. What is the all-cure?"

Zeela looked confused, "That's what it means?"

Alvladd nodded slowly.

"Well, that would be the flowers of Icetor boiled in spring water, I suppose. But that's ridiculous, just an old wives tale."

Rivertunnel looked offended. "Hey! Those flowers are real! My ancestor, Thrugg, saved the abbey with them!"

Zeela shrugged. "Then I guess they're real. But they only grow in the North Mountains."

Villyemm chuckled. "Ahaha! Vixen, we're _under _the North Mountains!"


	32. Chapter XXXI

**Redwall**

Captain-in-Chief Firak, who had once admired his fearsome leader, now despised him. But the stoat was a clever one, despite his rough exterior, and knew he had to play his cards well.

The late evening was dimly illuminated by the setting sun as Griv Beastcrusher walked into the abbey. The wolverine had had his dinner, a sparrow the vermin had shot from the roof. It was small, but the wolverine could last until a late supper, and he planned on taking a nap.

"Welcome, your mightiness," said Firak, leading Griv to the great hall. "'Tis been a hard day, would you like to take a rest? Me and the other captains have a bed set up in the great hall."

Griv smiled, this way he didn't have to order them to do what they had already done. "Good, my chief advisor. Lead me."

The bed was made of four beds they harvested from the dorms, covered in cushions and a pillows, the wolverine contently lied down.

Griv was not a soft one, but he had always enjoyed comfort, and the warlord was tired. And as they say, music tames the wild beast, and Griv Beastcrusher was no exception. weasel Captain Gorbac had a deep baritone voice and a harp, which he was passably good at. He sang a lullaby that had passed from Griv's ancestors in the Land of Ice and Snow to them.

"The Warlord is mighty and strong,

His horde is proud and powerful,

But when the day is done and the enemies dead,

We must rest in the domain of dreams..."

The versus went on like this, and Griv's eyes closed and his head drooped. Firak waved his paws, urgently whispering, "Positions!"

Captain Bludtail quietly drew his deadly curved sword and crept up behind the bed, hovering over the wolverine. Just in case the sword failed, two captains, Rugfur and Ragsnout, held up a mighty yew crossbow. A fantastic ferret bowbeast, Captain Dedmark Valldun pulled a long arrow nearly the size of a spear out, tipped with goose feather and fine sharp flint and an elm shaft. Taking careful aim, his keen eyes found the side of the Warlord's body; the arrow would pierce right through him.

"...But all the great ones must go,

On to the dreaded gates,

shrouded in mist and cries yell behind,

Prepare great Warlord, for the-"

"I got some- oh my."

A delicious aroma filled the room as Friar Durglo pushed a kitchen trolley into the room, on it was a perfectly roasted pheasant with herbs and plants, with a lemon drizzle and so on. The dormouse stood in shock watching the vermin in the middle of their plot to kill their warlord.

The wolverine snapped up, "Huh? What? Meat!"

Bludtail clumsily tried to put his sword away, but it fell to the floor with a clatter. The weasel hastily dropped to all fours and grabbed the sword and sheathed it. Ragsnout hastily cut the string of the bow, while Rugfur hurried it away to the corner of the room, followed by Dedmark who put the spear-like arrow with it. Firak sighed and slapped his forehead with his paws.

Griv got up and walked up and inspected the bird. "Wot's this, dormouse?"

Durglo, who was looking behind Griv as the captains were cleaning up their scheme, said, "Err, umm, w-w-w-well, s-some of y-y-your v-v-v-v-vermin caught it f-flying over the a-abbey, a y-young o-one, err, r-r-reckless, b-but that m-means the m-meat is t-t-t-tender."

The wolverine ripped part of the bird out and ate it. "Pheasants make good eating, come on, my captains!"

The vermin shakily walked over and half-heartedly enjoyed the meal, meanwhile their leader was blissfully eating, completely oblivious that the friar had just saved his life.

**Mossflower Woods**

"Heehee! Whew!"

Abbess Fern watched the two hedgehogs, Borgy and Mudgell, laughing as they returned for supper.

The old cellarhog, Corbo frowned at the young Wiltuds bounding up the path to Saint Ninian's. "Young rips, that's the problem with Wiltuds, 'cept your family, o' course, Mallow."

However, this time, the Wiltuds' joy was well founded. "Abbess, Abbess, guess wot?" said Borgy, like an excited Dibbun.

"What?" asked Fern.

Mudgell sniggered. "Heehee! We were on the river, lookin' at Sharkrazor, when we hear this."

Borgy held his head back and crowed, "Logalogalogalogalog!"

Mudgell smiled. "The shrews! They'll 'elp us, actual fighters, they are!"

Most Redwallers did not understand Borgy's warcry, but they were exceedingly happy to hear Mudgell's statement. Soon even Cellarhog Corbo was laughing with joy.

ooooooooooooo

"Logalogalogalogalogalogalog!"

Ten logboats filled with shrews were sailing upstream (as it was a dry summer) the River Moss. The shrews were small, with spiked fur, head bands and beards.

"Log a Log Dando! Good to see ye!" called out Borgy Wiltud.

Log a Log Dando was the shrew with the biggest beard, biggest stomach, and biggest smile. "Well, well. If it isn't Borgy Wiltud! And ye brought yer friends with ye! Roggo, cast anchor, an' the rest o' yew logboats, too!"

The "anchors" were just medium-sized boulders tied to ropes the shrews threw over board to hold their boats in place. Laughing and arguing, the shrews got off their boats and onto dry land.

Dando bounded to the ragtag group of woodlanders. "Well, yer Redwallers, least o' all most o' yew! Who's yer Abbot, or Abbess, I got that right, correct?" he asked the last question to an otterbabe called Barakar, who looked up at the Log a Log in awe. The Dibbun slowly nodded his head.

"Good! So, who is it, and wot's yer situation!"

Abbess Fern steeped forward. "I'm the Abbess, my name is Fern. Our Abbey has been... overrun... by vermin!"

"An' ye want us to 'elp ye, no doubt?"

The Abbess nodded vigorously.

The shrew put on a gruff demeanor. "Well, then ye'll need to pay the price! Us Guosim, Guerilla Union of Shrews in Mossflower, we don't come free ye know."

"Then what would you like?" asked the abbess.

"We demand... beast sacrifice!"

All the shrews, along with Borgy and Mudgell, immediately burst out laughing. However, the Redwallers looked horrified.

When Dando saw their faces, he said, "Oh, sorry! 'Twas just a joke! We'll 'elp ye! All o' our ancestors 'ave 'elped Redwallers, an' we're no exception!"


	33. Chapter XXXII

**Hodbar**

Just after waking from the night's sleep, the travelers were sitting in a circle around a table, along with Villyemm and Highminer Alvladd.

"So the flowers of Icetor, eh? How would this work?" said Rivertunnel.

Mervo answered. "Well, the cure is that they're boiled in spring water, mayhap the water with the boiled flowers could douse the flame."

Zeela hugged her son as the young fox tried to squirm away. "Of course! Good job!"

Getting away, Mervo asked, "Still, how do we get those flowers? Then we need to get to Salamandastron."

Alvladd answered. "You can go out and harvest the flowers today, then the tunnels to Harbod expand everywhere, even to the deep caverns of Salamandastron."

Erzvin smiled. "That makes this much easier. Thank you, Highminer."

The mole nodded. "Maybe we will join you, you speak of an emperor fighting the mountain, we can help."

"Oh, thank you," said Rivertunnel.

"Could you give us weapons?" asked Erzvin. "We're going to go around the mountain, and there may be vermin gangs there."

"Of course. But my moles could not accompany you, we are not partial to sunlight."

oooooooooooooo

Mervo sheathed his short, well-balanced sgian dhu. he had been given. Zeela had gotten a light Dirk, Rivertunnel a hefty battle-ax, Erzvin a sharp sabre, and Bungle had a hammer. With the exception of Rivertunnel, none of them really knew how to use the weapons, and they would undoubtedly get ran down if they were to meet a vermin gang.

They exited Hodbar saying goodbye to the moles. Leaving them, they wandered aimlessly, realizing they had not thought this through well enough and had no real clue what to look for, never having seen a flower of Icetor before.

So they hiked through the mountains, tired and confused.

oooooooooooooo

The camp was sizable enough, with three and a half score vermin. Their leader was a strong, proud fox, called Balefur, and his father was called Balefur, and his father's father, and so on.

Two scouts, Scabby the ferret and Chizvil the rat returned to him, reporting, "Ach, Laird Balefur, we've spotted five, with good weapons and prob'ly loot, easy prey!"

Balefur smiled wickedly. In his deep voice, he ordered, "Get the crew ready, and tell mah captains to cum here!"

The scouts ran off. After them came four captains, two foxes and two weasels.

Balefur grinned. "Och, me bonny captains! T'day's yer lucky day! We'll be gettin' sum fine weapons, just enough fah us lads!"

The captains cackled wickedly. Time for plunder!

oooooooooooooo

"Rivertunnel, did your old ancestor Thrugg ever write what those flowers look like?"

"Oh, all he said was they were white. Fat lot o' help that-"

"Hurr, wot is it?" asked Bungle.

Rivertunnel stared into the distance. "I just saw, in my mind's eye, wot those flowers looked like. Small, delicate. Star-like and white as driven snow, with a tinge of light blue."

"But how?" asked Zeela.

Bungle chuckled. "Hurr, that'd be Marthen ee Warrior."

Rivertunnel nodded. "Yer right there, Matey. Now-"

"Aaargh!" An arrow flung overhead, nicking his Erzvin's off.

"Get down!" called Rivertunnel.

They ducked, but it wasn't much use, they were on the side of a mountain. Mervo looked below, and to his dismay he saw a vermin band approaching.

Arrows flew through the air as the travelers unsheathed their weapons. The vermin were now charging up at them, bearing makeshift weapons made of what ever they could find.

"Baaaaaaaaaaalefur!" cried one of the vermin, a ferret, bearing an ax made from a piece of slate tied to a hefty stick.

The vermin were soon at them. Still, they had the advantage of the high ground, and Rivertunnel and Erzvin were able to keep them away at the moment.

Rivertunnel kicked a rat back. "We can't 'old 'em back forever! Wot'll we do?"

Just as the vermin were about to breach them, a cry rent the air.

"Haaaaaaaaaaway the Braw! Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaway the Braw!

"Logalogalogalog! Guorafs! Guorafs! Logalogalogalogalogalog!"

Bearded shrews with head bands leaped into the fray, wielding rapiers. There was also a strange group of creatures, large white-furred beasts with great horns and bushy beards.

The tides changed almost instantly. The shrews and creatures outnumbered and outmatched the vermin. They were fierce and deadly fighters, especially the horned beasts with massive battle-axes.

Mervo observed in awe as the vermin retreated back in fear, splitting up and running away. These were real warriors, proud and fearless.

"Redwaaaaaaall!" called Rivertunnel, leaping into the battle. Hacking at an axe, he came up next to one of the creatures. "If you don't mind me asking, what are ye, matey?"

The creature chuckled. "Och, Ah'm wot ye'd call a braw goat, laddie. Not much of us left, y'see. Mah name is Arro, Ah'm the leader of this clan. Heard one of these vermin, sounded ferret or weasel, callin' Balefur's battlecry. We've been after Balefur for a while, scummy vermin."

"Which one is him?" asked the otter, chopping up a ferret. "Och, Ah don't see 'im, 'e must've ran, like most o' these vermin. Ah hate that, gives us less of a fight!"

ooooooooooooo

Balefur at the moment was sneaking behind with his five captains, eager to get their paws on those fine weapons. Sneaking around, they found a young fox in the back of the ranks. Maybe he was vermin, but he must've gone good. He looked down the mountain, there was a score of shrews that had spotted him running up.

"Och, mah braw laddies, go an' get those shrews."

The captains foolishly ran off to their deaths, fighting the shrews, only taking three with them. However, it was a necessary distraction for Balefur. He raised his axe over the young foxes head, chuckling.

Mervo had heard Balefur's laughter, and his reaction was to immediately spin around and stab with his Sgian Dhu.

Balefur froze, the small knife still buried in his gut. He looked down at, then at the young fox, then fell and rolled down the mountain, dead.

Mervo sat, traumatized. He would never forget the doomed look Balefur had given him as the tough fox realized that he was going to die.

oooooooooooooo

The battle was over, the vermin dead.

"Guoraf, my friend. Guerilla Union of Roving and Fighting Shrews, ye see!"

Rivertunnel chuckled. "That was a good fight!"

Arro laughed. "Och, Pity we didn't get Balefur. Ah, well. We'll get him next time."

"Actually, the young fox got 'im, with a little knife!" said the Guoraf, Log a Log Brus.

Arro frowned, and looked at the three foxes in disgust. "Ah'm no fan o' foxes, lyin' beasts, ye ken!"

"Hey! They're my friends!" argued Rivertunnel.

"Vermin are vermin. They're just lyin' to you."

Brus was on Rivertunnel's side. "Oh, Arro! Ye can't just say that, wot if there's some good!"

The goat shook his head. "Nay, Ah've never known a good vermin!"

"Well, ye keep thinking that!" retorted Brus. "'E killed Balefur, didn't 'e? As a matt o' fact, Ah'm gonna go congratulate 'im, right now!"

"Yes!" added Rivertunnel as they marched off to where Mervo was sitting alone, facing the stars.

"'Lo, friend!" called Log a Log Brus. "Ye proud? Ye killed Balefur! The big bad 'un 'imself! Got 'im right in the gut, ye 'ad a little knife an' he 'ad a battle axe! No trouble fer ye, though, right?"

Paying no heed to Mervo's horrified expression, Rivertunnel added, "'E rolled right down the mountain! Ye got 'im good, one o' the best kills I ever 'eard o', I wish I was there to see it!"

At this Mervo promptly broke down into sobs, letting his head drop to his knees as the Log a Log and otter realized what was going on.

"Oh, can ye believe we fergot wot it was like when we first took a life?"

The Log a Log sighed. "Yer right matey, we should've been more sensitive. 'Ere, listen, me young matey. Vermin are cruel, wicked beasts, ye did somethin' good gettin' rid o' a fox, they just live to-"

Rivertunnel slapped the Log a Log with his paw as Mervo's sobs increased nearly tenfold.

"Wot was that for, matey," asked Brus. "I was just tellin' him 'e did a good thing, riddin' the world o' foxes an' vermin."

Rivertunnel glared at him, and realization dawned on the shrew's face. "Oh, I'm an idiot!"

Zeela ran at them, shouting. "Git goin', ye two! Can't ye just see you're making it worse!"

The otter and shrew obediently ran off. Zeela and Erzvin replaced them, placing comforting paws on their sons shoulders, as Zeela began singing.

_"Far Across the Land,_

_And just before the sea,_

_The mountain of power,_

_That's where you'll find me,_

_Where a dragon warns,_

_The dangers away,_

_I will find peace there,_

_A path so far, a very long way,_

_Through the trees of the great forest,_

_And alongside a stream that's fullest,_

_Through the mountains high,_

_Were the winged mice eyesight is nigh,_

_Far Across the Land,_

_And just before the sea,_

_The mountain of power,_

_That's where you'll find me,_

_Through the wetlands,_

_Of monsters alike,_

_Brave your way towards the sands,_

_Beware the swamps fiends,_

_To the place of golden peace,_

_Of great tranquility,_

_Far Across the Land,_

_And just before the sea,_

_The mountain of power,_

_That's where you'll find me,_

_Across the place where sea meets land,_

_Across the dunes and sand,_

_Beware clawed creatures,_

_Those that are hostile,_

_To find the mountain where magic does surge,_

_Far Across the Land,_

_And just before the sea,_

_The mountain of power,_

_That's where you'll find me."_


	34. Chapter XXXIII

**The Shore**

Dethfur and his crew were in foul spirits. They had not lost much of their group, just the former bosun Foulpaw, former cook, Lumpgutt, and their first captain, Bloodpatch. And the tracker rat Nightrip, but nobody really cared about him. They still had six rats, counting Dethfur, four weasels, three three stoats, two ferrets, and a fox.

Still, they were in strong dislike of their present captain, Dethfur. The rat had first seemed strong, but now he was hesitant, cautious. They said he wasn't a real searat anymore.

Dethfur decided he needed somebody to watch his back. Foulpaw had became his first mate when Bloodpatch died, but Foulpaw was dead now. He needed somebeast well respected by the crew, and loyal to him.

Darktung Ripphook the one fox was a dangerous beast, tall and lean with a sly and hungry look on his face. His left eye was missing, the result of a long-lost battle, and it was covered with an eyepatch, and his left paw was also missing, replaced by a long, sharp silver hook. His back fur and top of his head were a dark gray, almost black, and his eyes were violet, just like the emperor's. He wore a long black cloak and was a master of disguise, he had the ability to vanish into the night, and carried aThere was a rumor he was the cousin of Emperor Silvertung, or of some relation. He used a long blackthorn staff that was sharpened on one side, and the other it was swirled around itself.

There was also Raej the stoat, a tall, tough, and burly beast that used a large battle-axe. He was feared, along with being very cunning. He'd once defeated a pike and saved the life of the smaller, plump stoat Radge that followed him constantly, admiring him.

His last option was Scrags the rat. The rat was a bit of a runt, and teased by the crew. However, he had been the third to join them, Dethfur and Bloodpatch, and Dethfur knew he was deadly with his poisoned dagger, and heard all that was going on with his crew. Even if he would not become Dethfur's first mate, he would certainly make the thin rat his ally.

The crew were in a group around a fire surrounded by large stones and their tents. The farthest stone, just out of the dim fire light, upon it sat Darktung Ripphook. Dethfur approached the fox warily from behind, Darktung had a reputation as a killer. The fox had watched as the rat returned from Scrags tent, and heard the words that were exchanged.

The rat opened his mouth to say something, when the fox vanished suddenly into the night, then moments later the blackthorn staff zoomed from the air at the rat's face, and then nicked the top of the captain's mouth with the sharpened staff.

Holding his mouth open wide, the rat backed away slowly as to not rip the inside of his mouth open.

"What do you want... captain?" asked the fox, his violet eyes glowing in the night.

Once he was away from the staff, the rat said, "I want you, I need you to watch my back."

The fox vanished again, then next thing Dethfur knew was that Darktung was standing behind him, and his deadly hook was at the rat's throat.

"What's in it for me?"

Holding his head up, Dethfur answered, "W-well, you'll be second-in-command, and just as much share of loot as me."

The rat winced as he heard the fox growl, "Sounds like I could get more by killing you now and becoming captain myself. Your request is denied. Now go, before I change my mind against your favor."

Dethfur knew better than to argue. He ran off to find Raej.

Unlike Darktung, Raej was in the middle of the camp, drinking, eating, and laughing with the rest of the crew. The rat approached with sword out, the stoat could get violent.

Seeing the captain approaching, Raej loudly said to the crew, "'Ey, 'ere's are noble cap'n, mates! Hmm, he's not sleepin' in luxury with fine food, so he's probably wantin' one o' us t'do 'is dirty work, eh?"

The crew guffawed as Raej stood up to confront his captain, a grin on his face. "So, wot'll it be? Want be to go swimmin' in the sea an' bring a shark back fer yer dinner? Or 'ow 'bout I go up to the mountain an' kill the big badger an' bring back 'is 'ead?"

Radge chuckled. "Huhuhuhu! That's a good 'un, Ca- I mean, Raej."

As the crew laughed louder, Dethfur growled, not failing to notice that Radge had nearly called Raej captain, confirming that Raej was plotting mutiny. "Follow me."

Raej shook his head. "Eh, I'd rather stay here, if ye please."

"I don't."

"Well, then, too bad, me captain. I'm stayin'."

Dethfur shrugged. "Very well."

The captain walked away to his tent. Just as he got to the flap, he looked back. Raej gave a gurgle and fell to the ground, dead. Smirking, Dethfur walked back into his tent where Scrags was waiting.

"He shoulda listened to his captain," said the rat.

Dethfur chuckled. "Good work. You got Ripphook too?"

Scrags's smile faded. Indicating a hole through his right shoulder, the rat said, "I tried. I raised my knife over him, but then he vanished, then his hook got me. That fox is a better assassin than me!"

Dethfur's face went grave. "Oh no. No doubt he's going to go after us. I dunno 'bout ye, matey, but I don't wanna be on the bad side of Darktung Ripphook.

Scrags nodded. "Neither do I? What do you suggest we do?"

Dethfur sat on his cot and pondered for a moment, then his frown turned into a smile. "You'll see..."

oooooooooooooo

_Farran the Poisoner, _thought Darktung Ripphook, as he snuck through the deserted halls of Salamandastron the following morning. They knew the tale of him, with Ferrahgo the Assassin. Dethfur wanted him dead, because the fool thought Ripphook wanted the captain dead. So, he sent Ripphook to infiltrate Salamandastron, and kill any hares or otters or who know what else that came out during disease time. No doubt the fox would get sick too.

But Ripphook would surprise Dethfur. He would do the job more than perfectly, and then he would kill Dethfur, taking captainship himself.

oooooooooooooo

A hare captain called Fabian L. W. Longleap came from his door. He had recently received news that his young brother, Trav, had died from the Mortifer's disease. He would be buried in the caverns with the other hares, many of whom dead from the disease. Wiping tears off his face, out of the corner of his watering eye he saw a black cloak vanish down the corner of a cavern. His curiousity, piqued, he considered heading down the path, but thought better of it. Turning back, he thought it could be one of Trav's friends, as the young hare was a popular one. Turning back, he continued, tears returning.

And lucky for him he did.

oooooooooooooo

Corvil, a young, portly hare and a friend of Trav, was one of the kitchen assistants and was headed to his friend's funeral. His fur wet from tears, he walked down the cavern.

He suddenly felt a looming presence behind him. But before he could do anything, he killed over, blood spilling from a slit in his throat. The dark-furred fox stood over him, then vanished into the rocks, waiting.

He was surprised at how simple it was. Hares came this way, then seeing their friend on the floor, they dropped down to check on him, giving Darktung a perfect opportunity to slay them. All too easy.

Silent, Darktung crept away from the spot, though decided to stay close in case he heard a hare call out. Creeping along, he heard,

"Aaaaaaaugh! No, kill me! Don't take me daughter! I'll give ye anythin' ye want, even me life! Take me instead!"

The cries were that of hares believing they were back in long-gone battles, they had gone mad, Darktung reasoned, as he crept closer he saw they were coming from the infirmary.

Two-score beasts were lying on white beds, crying in pain. These were undoubtedly the victims of Mortifer's. A young female hare was tending to them, and gave a gasp of fright when she saw the dark fox. Darktung made short work of her.

Leaving the dead hare on the ground, the fox put each and every one of the hares out of the misery, all forty-four of them. Smirking to himself, he walked to the window, content he had killed enough.

The fox heard something, then turned around.

Krudeblade and his father, Thirstblood, stood at the entrance, fury on their face. They raised their swords and charged.

"Hooooooolaaaaaawheeeeeeeeeeeeey!"


	35. Chapter XXXIV

**Salamandastron**

"Wot the..."

A young hare called Allis, realizing she had been infected with the disease, headed to the infirmary, to see a gruesome sight. Each hare was dead in a bed, their throats slit. The healer replacement for Rhys was on the ground, a hole through her stomach. Two otters were down near the window, one clearly dead, while the other was gasping in pain.

Allis immediately ran to the gasping otter. "Wot happened, you're one of the Rogue Crew, aren't you?"

Krudeblade nodded. "F...Fox. Dark...gray fur. B...Black cloak, an'...hook... Killed 'em all, e...even my ole pa, there..." The young otter looked up at her, his eyes dimming. "I... I'm go...going..."

The sea otter shivered and went limp in her arms.

"No... no... I still don't understand... wot happened?"

Krudeblade never answered, nor would he.

Allis let the body fall from her arms. Sobbing at the loss of so much life, she called. "Murder! Murder!"

Four hares came running, nodding. One, a young one, had tears on his face. "Aye, we saw 'em. Corvil, Welber, Dina, and Lortro. All... oh, no. Wot's 'appened 'ere?"

The oldest hare, Corporal Martull Borbon, wiped a tear from his face. "Sad, wot's happened here. The murder of many, look, poor Yla, who was brave enough to step in for Madame Rhys, even though her life was virtually forfeit. How is she rewarded? Death, along with the whole infirmary. Who could have done such a thing?"

Allis pointed at the body of Krudeblade. "He said it was a dark gray fox with a black cloak and a hook."

The hares nodded sadly. The young one that spoke sighed. "And now are lives are forfeit too. We're not allowed to leave this room once we've entered, we're doomed."

oooooooooooo

Darktung took the Icetor Cure gratefully. "Oh, thank you, Emperor. Clever of you to bring that."

Vafír nodded. "Now, go back to your crew."

The gray fox got up and moved towards the flap, then turned back. "How could I repay you?"

Vafír grinned. "Keep me updated on Dethfur's crew. And when a rat called Bloodtoe wants to join them, support him."

Darktung nodded. He understood the white fox's intentions completely.

ooooooooooooo

Dethfur was furious when he saw Darktung returning alive. Growling to Scrags, he said, "Blast it, that fox... Why isn't he dead? Should be with Vulpuz by now."

Scrags the rat shrugged, and drew his poisoned knife. "Well, it appears he's bringing a rat with him."

"Hmm?"

"Look, that rat behind him. Completely gray. I think 'is name is... Bloodtoe, aye, that's it, 'e's a cap'n."

"Wonder wot he wants. Come on, let's go."

The rest of the crew came to meet him, following Dethfur and Scrags. Darktung exchanged a glance with Dethfur, and the rat saw the fox knew what was going on.

Shaking off the eerie feeling, Dethfur pointed at the rat. "Wot's 'e 'ere fer?"

Bloodtoe answered. Bowing his head, he said, "I'm Captain Bloodtoe, of Silvertung's guard."

Dethfur nodded. "And why are ye here?"

Bloodtoe grinned. Looking side to side, he lowered his voice. "The emperor has not been good to me. Last night I heard your crew talking of a plot to kill him, don't worry, I didn't turn you in, I've come to help you."

Before Dethfur could retaliate, Bloodtoe followed Darktung as the fox walked away for their afternoon naps and snacks..

Growling, Dethfur turned to a sniggering Scrags once the rest of the crew returned to their positions.

"Wot're yew laffin' at?"

"Heehee! Look at the fox."

Dethfur turned, watching Darktung swaggering back, then the fox stopped, and put a paw to his neck, gave a gurgle, and fell to the ground.

Dethfur turned excitably toward Scrags. "Haharr, ye killed 'im, with yer dagger!"

Scrags chuckled. "Aye, yes, heheheh. Lookit Bloodtoe, seems completely confused."

Dethfur chuckled as Bloodtoe dropped to his knees, confused. "What's happened, matey? Oh, my! Are you..."

"Kill that rat," commanded Dethfur, laughing.

Then Dethfur felt a sting at the back of his neck. He turned in shock to Scrags, who was twirling his dagger, laughing. "Hoho! Darktung dead, you dead, Raej dead, an' soon Bloodtoe. Now it's time fer Cap'n Scrags, hoho, I like the sound o' that!"

Dethfur gave a gurgle and fell to the floor, his cutlass half drawn. Laughing, Scrags leaned over him, brandishing his knife. "Cap'n Scrags, lets 'ere ye say it, O Mighty One!"

This was Scrags's last mistake. Dethfur finished drawing his cutlass completely, and swung it upward, catching the runty Scrags in the side with his last breath.

Scrags gave a gasp as he realized his fatal mistake. But now, it was too late...

ooooooooooooo

It was Radge the stoat that found the bodies. The plump little stoat was completely shocked and speechless, unable to cry out.

A weasel called Varjyl noticed the stoat standing over their bodies. Always ready to manipulate one, he patted Radge on the back. "Hoho, my matey! Wot 'ave ye done? Taken out the Captain _an' _'is pet assassin, all by yourself! Y'know wot that means?"

Radge moved his jaw, trying to find his ability to speak. "Y-yer n-n-not g-goin' t-to k-k-k-k-k-kill m-me, are y-you?"

"Kill ye? Ye defeated the captain! That makes ye..."

Realization dawned to the plump stoat. "Isn't there a better candidate? I-I m-m-mean D-D-D-Darktung..."

"Oh, Darktung's dead, didn't you know? The new 'un, Bloodtoe, found 'im, we think Scrags did it. So you be captain, and if it's good with you, I could be your advisor, I've been captain for a while, you know."

Nodding dumbly, Radge's mind seemed to open to new ambitions. Him, Captain Radge! Slayer of Dethfur, and then he'd kill Silvertung...

Varjyl called out to the rest of the crew. "'Ey, mateys! Guess wot, we got ourself a new cap'n!"

Stumbling around, the crew came to them. Most of them had on skeptical glances, as they watched the small fat stoat taking the cutlass from Dethfur's paw, then turned and waved it up in the air. "Hoho, me mateys! I'm yer new cap'n, ye answer to me! I killed Dethfur an' Scrags, oh, an' Darktung too, that wuzzent Scrags doin', that wuz mine!"

The crew looked critical for a second, then Varjyl winked at them. Understanding, the crew let out a hearty cheer.

Except for Bloodtoe, who let out a dark chuckle.

ooooooooooooo

It was midnight. The dark gray fox Darktung Ripphook looked side to side as he slowly got up. Long ago he had built an immunity to most poisons and diseases. Pulling his cloak up, he vanished into the night. Without leaving a mark on the sand, he swiftly headed north of the coast. Nobody would know he was still alive.

He passed the mountain of Salamandastron, and headed until he found his quarry. The fleet of Kamataya's ships.

He pulled his blackthorn staff from his cloak. Placing it in the sea water, the water slowly moved apart, leaving a dry path on the sea floor heading straight for Kamataya's ship, _The Revenge._

Walking along the sea floor, he came to right in front of it. He lifted the staff and drove it into the ground, vanishing, while the path became filled with water once more.

He reappeared on the deck of the ship, and brandished his silver hook, grinning.

There were four guards on the ship, all blue, and all weasels. They were still oblivious to the demise of their queen. Darktung snuck up behind them and shoved his staff into the timbers, and they froze completely.

Darktung came in front of them. He closed his eyes for a second, then reopened them, though now they were different. A whole array of colors, swirling around.

His voice barely above his whisper, he commanded the five guards. "The smallest ship in the fleet, it carries the same name as this one, _The Revenge. _You will go to that ship, and you will follow what ever orders I give you, no matter what."

He stabbed his staff into the ground once more, and they could move again. Wordlessly, they nodded and ran, jumping overboard to swim to the smaller ship.

Darktung vanished from one ship and reappeared at the next, gathering beasts that were left to guard and sending them to the smaller _Revenge_.

The last ship, _The Bloodwave_, Darktung came upon the two he hoped to find.

Murgu and Fedge, the torturous ferret twins, immediately gave gasps as they saw the dark gray fox appear before them. Immediately they fell to the ground, bowing their heads.

"Oh, master–"

"Enough groveling! You know what to do, yes?"

The ferrets nodded. "Yes, master, we–"

"Filled _The Revenge _with vittles and prepared it for sea. Shall we–"

"Go?"

The fox nodded, and the ferrets immediately got up and leaped to the water, swimming to the ship.

Darktung sighed contentedly. Then he drove his staff into the ground and reappeared on the smaller _Revenge._

It was a small ship, but it was made from wood from a strange land that was dark with a luster of its own, and even sea water couldn't rot. Darktung Ripphook had made it long ago in a distant place, on his own quest for revenge.

The sail on it was lifted by Murgu while Fedge cut a rope that was connecting it to the other ships. The ship sailed off into the night, crewed by hypnotized blue vermin and two gray weasel torturers, and captained by a dark gray fox from a distant land.

**A/N: You probably don't understand that last scene. However, I'm going to make a whole saga that will explain, once I'm done with The Dark Empire.**


	36. Chapter XXXV

**Redwall Abbey (Now called Beastcrusher Castle)**

Griv Beastcrusher looked at the tapestry of Martin the Warrior. Was it just him, or did the mouse look angry at the wolverine warlord? Growling, Griv lifted his claws and prepared to strike down, tearing at the tapestry.

"NOOO!" squeaked a voice. The small dormouse Friar Durglo leaped at the wolverine, hitting the side of Griv and causing the warlord to stumble and take a step back.

Griv grabbed the dormouse in mighty paw and lifted him to in front of his face. "Wot d'ye think yer doin', eh?"

Durglo gave a squeak of fear but tried to put on a brave face. "Y... Y... You shall n...not f... fight Martin the Warrior!"

"Aww, is the little mousey carin' for the pritty paintin'?" asked the weasel captain Rugfur jokingly. His companions all chuckled at the remark, with the exception of the taciturn bowbeast Dedmark Valldun.

From the wolverine's paw the friar called, "I'm a dormouse! And we're closer to squirrels than mice, anyway!"

Griv laughed, and threw the dormouse onto the floor. "Well, mousey. Do you know the price for attacking me?"

Durglo paled, as did the captains. They had been hoping for the dormouse to live because of the good food he made.

Rugfur chuckled cautiously. "Huhu. Well, uh... Lord Beastcrusher, don't ye think it's a little 'arsh? He didn't do much, I mean..."

The wolverine turned to the weasel, silencing him. "Dedmark!"

Wordlessly the strong ferret sighed and pulled out a longbow. Grabbing a long shaft with a sharpened flint at the end, he placed it and pulled back the arrow, taking careful aim.

Just before the ferret fired, Ragsnout called called loudly, pointing at the tapestry, "Wot wuz dat?"

The stoat turned sharply, knocking into Dedmark's elbow and sending the arrow flying towards the ceiling.

All the vermin toward to see where Ragsnout was pointing at Martin's tapestry. Meanwhile, Friar Durglo scampered off to the kitchens.

"Wot iz it, Rag?" asked Rugfur, confused.

The stoat blinked. "It... it lookt like de mousey paintin' moved!"

The vermin where confused. "Wot d'ye mean, Rag?" asked Rugfur.

The stoat kept his paw up. "'E like swung 'is sword, an' 'e looked really angry like!"

Griv Beastcrusher rolled his eyes. "Why are ye a captain, ye idjit? 'Ere, Firak, d'ye know any that could replace the hallucinatin' fool?"

The stoat stroked his beard thoughtfully, making sure he did not give away that he was plotting against Griv. Still, he saw the sword move too, but was clever enough to keep his mouth shut, though he was actually glad Ragsnout had seen it as well, because it saved the Friar. He answered, knowing that Griv would forget by luncheon, "No, not yet, though I might test some loyalties."

Griv shrugged. "Well, then, wot are ye still 'ere fer? Go, all of ye! Huh, workin' under Silvertung 'as made y'all soft, I sez."

They quickly obeyed their temperamental warlord. Running out to the orchard, Firak, Bludtail, and Gorbac walked around, looking back at the abbey.

In his deep voice, the hefty weasel Gorbac grumbled, "Bah, Silvertung's a much better ruler than 'im. Pity yer plan didn't work, Firak."

The burly stoat shrugged. "Mebbe 'e's right, bein' with Silvertung 'as changed us, now we won't be content with a simple-minded wolverine for a chief."

Bludtail nodded. "Yeah, I saw Weaseltail an' a bunch o' other mates gittin' ripped to shreds by a big pikefish, but did 'e care? No, but ole Silvertung would, that's fer sure. An' then 'e keeps sendin' us back out, we haven't lost any more, but it's only a matter o' time. Who's captaining the food party right now?"

"That would Captain Flogg," answered Firak.

"I bet tomorrow's lunch 'e comes back dead," said Bludtail.

Gorbac chuckled. "I'll take that. Captain Flogg will probably bring back something good, there could be a pheasant nest 'round 'ere, as we already got one. Hoho, I'd dearly like to get some pheasant again!"

Firak shrugged. "I'm not bettin' anything, 'tis foolish an' reckless. I'm goin' to go get Dedmark, we're goin' to need a new plan.

**Mossflower Woods**

The weasel Captain Flogg and his group were on full guard, with their weapons drawn and sniffing the air.

Flogg caught a whiff of something strange. "Hmm... 'old on, mates. Somethin' 'round 'ere. Trizo, d'ye know wot it is?"

The ferret Trizo, their tracker, sniffed an elm tree. "Many sh'ews, I t'ink. Smells f'miliar to when we battled dose sh'ews of the Guosssim with the woter rats."

Flogg frowned. "Well, wot're shrews doin' 'ere?"

Trizo shrugged. "I dunno, mebbe they're... argh!"

"Logalogalogalogalog!" The Guosim charged through the woods, on of them stabbing Trizo in the neck with his rapier.

The Guosim easily outnumbered them. They had already had them surrounded, and took them in, rapiers stabbing as the vermin screamed. The vermin attempted to fight back, but their numbers could not face up to the shrew's onslaught.

Captain Flogg thought quickly. He grabbed the shirt of the fastest one of his ranks he knew, a ferret called Fleez.

"You! I need you–"

Fleez slumped dead in the weasel's arms. Sighing, Flogg ducked his head and charged at a Guosim, killing the shrew with his scimitar. Turning around, he grabbed a small rat.

"You, I need you to run back to the castle an' get Griv. Once we get the whole force we'll be able to take 'em, I think. Not sure o' their numbers. Go!"

Flogg dropped his scimitar and threw the rat over five Guosim in his adrenaline. The rat gave a squeak and immediately jumped up and ran, the Guosim on his trail.

The Guosim were closing in. Flogg realized he made a mistake, they had at least four-hundred warriors, outnumbering those back at the abbey– castle. He gave a sigh as he rallied his remaining score of fighters. Pointing at the spot where there was the least Guosim, he called, "Charge!"

Flogg was no bad swordsman, and a clever tactician. He led his party through the Guosim ranks were the shrews were the least numerous, and he began to feel uplifted. They were going to make it!

"Charge! Charge! Charge!" he called, cutting down shrews with his scimitar like a farmer does with a scythe. "Haharr! Go!"

"Now!" came a voice from the trees.

An arrow came from the elm tree Trizo had sniffed, piercing Flogg's throat and killing the weasel instantly. Another volley of arrows were launched, eliminating the remaining vermin. Their shrieks were coupled with the laughs of Holly and her father Guggle from the tree.

oooooooooooooo

Holly and Guggle climbed down, chuckling.

"Good job, both of ye, young an' old!" congratulated Log a Log.

Holly smiled. "Thank you, Log– ah!"

An arrow whizzed through the air, catching her in the paw. She and her father gaped at the injury. Tears of pain begin brimming her eyes as she let out a small gasp. But before she could let out a larger cry, another arrow flew true, catching her in the throat. She gave a gurgle and collapsed to the ground.

"No!" called Guggle, dropping. "I can't lose you, I already lost yer mother! Log a Log, come help!"

Dando dropped to his knees. "Nothin' we–"

"Beastcrusher! Beastcrusher! Death will fall to ye!" came the calls of a large group.

Coming through the woods was a horde of barbaric beasts, armed to the fangs. There was at least one-hundred, but some could not be seen from behind the trees. Heading them was a small rat, behind him was a wolverine. The wolverine was massive, with mad yellow eyes, deadly fangs, wickedly curved claws, long, black fur, and he carried a ferocious spiked club. To his right was a tattooed stoat covered in such shaggy fur it was hard to even tell he _was _a stoat, he could easily be mistaken as something else, even an otter. To the wolverine's left was a big, wiry ferret in a mottled cloak that made him almost invisible in the trees, and he carried a great yew longbow he had just fired.

Guggle gave a growl and leaped forward towards the ferret, but his arm was grabbed by Log a Log. He protested, "Let me at 'em! C'mon!"

Dando shook his head. "Ye won't be convinced, will ye? Listen, we outnumber 'em, yer too old fer this."

Guggle growled and struggled. "Bah! Let me go!"

Dando gave a sigh– he had learned what was to be done. Picking the rock from Flogg's carcass, he lightly knocked the squirrel's head, setting him unconscious. He then drew his rapier. Charge!

**Redwall, just over five minutes ago**

The small rat burst into orchard breathless. "Cap'n Firak! We're under attack! From shrews! Git Griv!"

The stoat acted quickly. In a quick run, he had Griv out of the abbey.

The wolverine growled. "Wot d'ye wan'? Why d'ye bring me out 'ere?"

The rat explained what was going on; Griv just shrugged. "So? Gorbac, go git the 'orde."

As the weasel ran off, Firak took his chance to both win the battle, and get Ragsnout back in Griv's favor. "Ahem, sire, don't you think we need more of a strategy? Rat, what's yer name, and how many shrews were there?"

The rat picked at his ear. "Err, my name's Skivo, Cap'n. An' there was err, err, err, 'bout five 'undred, but we've taken 'bout two-score o' 'em, I t'ink."

Firak nodded. "Y'see, they outnumber us. Now, Great an' Powerful Griv Beastcrusher, I gotta plan, an' I know who to lead it. Ragsnout, c'mon!"

Ragsnout smiled, but Griv just shrugged. "Okay, do wot y'need. But y'better not mess up."

ooooooooooooooo

The horde ran off, not realizing something. With great ease, the laughing redwallers simply walked through the destroyed west wall. They were free! However, they forgot one of their number. Friar Durglo was still in the kitchens, unsure of what was going on.

**Back to the battle**

"Logalogalogalogalogalogalogalogalog!"

The shrews rushed forward, waving their rapiers. They hit the coming vermin strong, doubting what Firak's shout would say.

"Spears and pikes: Up!"

Just before the shrews reached them, all the vermin in rank one, about fifty ran five paces forward and pulled out a spear and pike they, then held it at the oncoming shrews. The effect was immediate. The Guosim, unable to stop themselves in their mad charge, struck the pikes hard, losing many of their soldiers. Their cries rent the air as the weapons pierced them.

"'Ey, 'ey! Retreat two-score paces, git yer rapiers ready! Go! Go!" called Log a Log Dando.

Immediately the shrews ran back through the woods as their Log a Log had ordered, crushing the foliage. Once again, they did not expect Firak's next order.

"Ragsnout! Now!"

Immediately the other eight and a half-score of vermin charged from the woods. As Griv's group had marched forward, they had snuck behind. Their front ranks too carried spears and pikes, and they struck the back of the shrews hard and deadly, killing many more. Ragsnout's laugh was hearable over the din of screaming Guosim. Gasps of pain went into the air as Log a Log Dando realized their predicament. So quickly they had lost so many, and now they were almost surrounded, about to be crushed between two deadly forces.

Griv grinned. "Good work, stoat. Now, 'ow does this go? We just kill 'em? Can I go to the front lines?"

Firak shrugged, and immediately the wolverine laughed wickedly into the air and charged to meet the shrews, his deadly claws and club killing them with ease.

"Log a Log, wot'll we do?" asked a shrew called Obbdo. "They're slayin' us like a bird slays worms, an' now that big wolverine 'as come to fight! It's all 'appening so fast! We're losin' numbers quickly, chief."

The answer hit Dando like a lightning bolt. "I got it!" Raising his voice, he called to his shrews, "Strategy Orange! Strategy Orange!"

Strategy Orange was a signal for a shrew plan where they took advantage of their diminutive height. The effect was immediate. While the vermin charged forward, closing in on them, the shrews crouched down to even shorter heights and prepared their rapiers. The vermin in the front ranks stumbled as their targets dropped, and they were confused for a fatal second. Just as quick as the vermin were slaying them, the shrews jumped forward, stabbing with their rapiers, slaying the vermin.

Firak tugged his beard sharply as he saw his plan suddenly fail, with nearly all his spear and pikebeasts dying. Growling, he called, "Blast it, those shrews! Full charge, all o' ye! Don't let 'em live!"

The vermin immediately drew their own weapons and set to battle with the shrews. The air was rent with battlecries, order cries, and death cries. The only one enjoying himself was Griv Beastcrusher.

The wolverine's vision turned red and he felt his already swelled bloodlust increase. Striking down a shrew with his claws and slaying two with his club, he gave a bellow and charged forward into the shrew armies. Slaying and striking, he too gathered wounds, but took little notice of them. Killing like a madbeast, as he was, he dove through the forces, the shrews stood little chance against him. The vermin forces had gained the upper paw, and the shrews were losing their forces.

Firak gave a sigh of relief. They would still win this battle, though they faltered at Strategy Orange, drawing his weapon, a double headed battle-ax, he contentedly charged into the shrew forces, skillfully flicking away rapiers and slaying. They would win.

ooooooooooooo

Borgy and Mudgell Wiltud were pushing the great trebuchet, turning it to a different direction.

"'Ow much credit do y'think we'll git fer this, mate?" asked Mudgell.

Borgy frowned. "Oh, it'll go to those Guosim folk. We'll just git a lecture on 'ow we coulda killed our own forces."

Mudgell shrugged. "Yer right? So, why are we doin' this again?"

Borgy smiled. "Don't ye wanna see verminbeasts gittin' blown to bits?"

Mudgell laughed. "Yer right. Let's do this!"

oooooooooooooo

_Boom!_

The ground shook as the trebuchet projectile landed in the vermin horde, killing the vermin. Everybeast, even Griv Beastcrusher, stopped their fighting. Soon, another projectile flew through the air, this one killing vermin, but also a couple of shrews. Another one blasted forward, hitting the vermin. The fourth hit the shrews only, and the fifth took out from both sides.

Soon the beasts yelled in fear, not knowing who was being targeted. Scrambling about, some ran off through the trees away, some scrambled around, not sure of what to do. The trees fell with the blasts, crushing creatures on both sides. Screams were yelled into the air as both shrews and vermin scrambled to get away. Grabbing Guggle, Log a Log Dando and Obbdo ran with them into the woods.

Griv Beastcrusher growled, his battle had been ruined. Most of the projectiles had killed several of the vermin, his side was suffering incredible losses. Running back, he grabbed the arms of Firak and Dedmark.

"C'mon, we're outta 'ere. Back to the abbey."

Firak frowned. "Wot about the rest of the 'orde? Shouldn't we gather 'em up, or at least shout to 'em?"

Griv shook his head. "And let the shrews know where we're going? We left it unguarded, they'll probably leave some sort o' trap. Now let's go, you can grab others on the way, but don't go shoutin'."

Griv sighed. Grabbing Rugfur, he told them what was going on. They quietly slipped through the trees towards the abbey. Near it they found Gorbac and Skivo studying the ground.

"Err, err, I think the slaves 'ave escaped," said Skivo.

Griv shrugged. "Who cares? C'mon!"

They hurried through the destroyed east wall, where they found Ragsnout and Bludtail waiting, with six other vermin, Scarclaw, Warthide, Scabs, Slitear, Badtung, and Scorpaw.

Ragsnout smiled when they returned. "O master Beastcrusher, we've–"

Griv waved his paw. "I don't care. Lissen, those shrews are still out there, an' if they think to check 'ere they'll find us alone, right Firak?"

The stoat nodded. "Aye, Gorbac, y'said ye had a plan, didn't ye?"

The big weasel nodded. "Aye, 'tis better yer here, Rag, Bludtail, an' the rest. Now ye six, wot're yer names?"

"Scarclaw," said a wiry ferret.

"Warthide," said an ugly weasel.

"Scabs," said a big rat.

"Slitear," said a small rat.

"Badtung," said a fat stoat.

"Scorpaw," said a scowling weasel.

Gorbac nodded. "Okay. Now I want ye six to go an' run 'round, git as much vermin ye can find. Got it? Now go!"

The vermin nodded. Griv smiled. "Not bad, weasel, heh, soon if those shrews come back... we'll be ready!"


	37. Chapter XXXVI

**The North Mountains**

The five travelers huddled around one of the fires in the Guoraf-Goat camp, discussing their new allies.

"They're great, and, wow." Rivertunnel held up his bowl. "I have never tasted such great hotroot soup. And I think it has more than just hotroot in it, all sorts o' peppers in here! Keeps ye warm on this mountain!"

Bungle nodded, slurping down his bowl. "Bo urr, you be roight there."

Rivertunnel leaned into them. "However, I'm not much a fan of the leaders. Log a Log Brus is friendly to us, and he can rally his shrews together, but he's rather ditzy, a bit of a fool, and hopeless at fighting. When we battled Balefur's group he mostly stayed back and slew injured vermin, not fighting any himself."

Mervo shivered at Balefur's name and pulled the cloak Brus had lent him closer, leaning over the fire. Erzvin looked at the hefty otter. "And Arro? Is it because he dislikes foxes?"

Rivertunnel nodded sadly. "He's a great fighter, smart too. But he openly dislikes us."

Bungle growled. "Burr, we be's focusin' on the wrong thing. We came to this hoigh mountain, which oi hate bein' so hoigh up, but wot d'we need?"

Erzvin smiled. "No denying good mole logic. Bungle's right. We need to get those flowers, if we want to give the vermin of the future a choice."

Rivertunnel looked around to the setting sun. "They're all falling asleep. Should we go without them?"

Zeela sighed. "Do you want to explain to Arro why we're here. We go, now."

They immediately demand the vixen's forceful tone. Erzvin splashed water onto the fire, but remembered to light a torch, first. They got up and huddled in their cloaks, and walked into the frigid snow of the North Mountains.

ooooooooooooo

The shrew was dead, long frozen. The travelers found them, lying there in the snow, frozen solid.

Erzvin grabbed his paw. Shrews were not built for the mountain ice, but the Guoraf roam everywhere. Leaving the shrew in the snow, they continued, keeping their eyes out for anything that looked like Rivertunnel's description.

Mervo huddled next to his father's torch, fear on his face. He kept seeing Balefur's doomed expression as the big dogfox fell through the mountain. He was probably frozen solid now, just like the poor shrew.

Mervo was also worried with another thought. A possibility he just couldn't throw off. In the back of his mind he was afraid of something.

"Father?" he asked to Erzvin.

"What is it?" replied the fox.

Mervo bit his lip. "So you know how that the cure will reverse all the effects of the spell?" Erzvin nodded, so he continued. "Wasn't one of the effects of the spell one that stopped Salamandastron from being a volcano?"

Erzvin nearly tripped as he fumbled the torch. "What? Hold on. Wait... Salamandastron, a volcano?"

Mervo nodded. "Yeah... I mean, maybe not..."

Erzvin chuckled, then sighed. "I doubt it, but... hmm..."

Mervo shrugged. "Ah well, we'll find up if we're blasted alive once we free vermin."

Erzvin laughed. "Hah! Though, seriously, the volcano needs time to prepare to blow up. It wouldn't just happen then and there."

Mervo nodded. "But... what if it's been building up this whole time? At Redwall, I read an account of Russano the Wise, he said that he noticed a strange, small bulge in the side of the mountain, like a volcano preparing to blow."

Erzvin shrugged. "We don't need to worry about that now. Let's just hope we find those flowers. Come on!"

ooooooooooooo

The North Mountains Crow Brethren watched the cold, weak travelers climbing the mountain. There numbers were few, they had lost many to the cold, the eagles, the shrews, and the goats, especially one in particular that attacked them alone. Those in the pine groves were faring much better, but the ones in the north mountains had resorted. To easy prey. And five travelers that were cold and weak climbing a mountain were perfect targets.

The leader, a black crow called Kielo watched, his eyes smiling inwardly. He called to his mate, Muera. "Gather the brethren! It seems fortune has favored us at last. We strike!"

The Crows came from their caves, watching the five travelers on their climb, waiting for their leaders' instructions. Kielo held his wing until he was sure the travelers were as close as possible. Then he dropped it. "Fly!"

ooooooooooooo

Bungle the mole was keeping as close as he could to the mountain. He hated being so high up. He hated the cold. But he was glad he could be here with his friends on their mission. He figured when this was finished he'd bring some of the molecrew down to Hodbar, Foremole would love it. He smiled as he forgot the height and his mind wandered to happier times. Warm, fresh scones with jam and meadowcream, strait from the oven. With summer strawberries on the side and some of Cellarhog Corbo's good October Ale to wash it all down. Ooooh… But he would be here for his friends.

Rivertunnel was in front, with Erzvin just behind him. Mervo was huddled near Erzvin's torch, and Zeela was behind the both of them. Bungle was in the back, but not lagging too far.

"C'mon, we're not far from the top! Let's keep goin'!" called Rivertunnel.

Erzvin continued forward, but Mervo tripped and fell shivering. His parents immediately grabbed his arms.

"Mervo, you okay?" asked Erzvin.

The fox nodded slightly. "I-I-I d-d-don't f-feel v-v-very g-good."

Erzvin held the torch in front of Mervo's face. "Come on, son. We have to do this, for all vermin and goodbeasts."

They trudged onward, at a slightly slower face.

"Wot was that?" called Rivertunnel, looking out. They all turned their heads to see two-score crows flying towards them.

"Burr, when will we get outta these mountens. Oi wish Owd 'Arry on 'em, 'tis terrible! Firs' verminbeasts, now crowbeasts! Boohoohurr!"

"Unsheath yer weapons!" called Rivertunnel. Erzvin and Zeela pulled their weapons out, sabre and dirk, but Mervo just took a couple steps backs and sat down, shivering and going pale. Bungle took his hammer out with one paw, the other with his claws locked into the mountainside.

"C'mon!" encouraged Rivertunnel, brandishing his axe. We can take a few little crows!"

The crows hit hard, but the big otter was ready. He swung his axe, dropping the crows. Erzvin and Zeela stabbed, and Zeela took one, but Erzvin just injured one, keeping true to his family vow, though the rest of the family had broken it: Slay no beasts.

Kielo noticed how the light-furred fox was refraining from slaying his birds. Taking full advantage, he flew claws outstretched, at the fox.

Erzvin, standing around a bunch of injured birds was taken aback by Kielo's fierce attack. The claws drove into his shoulders, and his peak ferociously pecked at Erzvin's face. The fox raised his sabre to strike at the bird, but just as quickly as he had came he had left.

Erzvin dropped to the snow in pain. Slowly, but then becoming quickly, he began sliding down the snow. Grasping desperately, he gave a yelp of fear as his sabre plummeted down below and the birds began attacking. "Heeeelp meeee!"

Mervo yelped and jumped forward on his knees, grabbing ahold of his father's arms. They both began going, down, though slower, as the birds took advantage. Rivertunnel was swinging his axe and Zeela stabbing her dirk to get to them, but it was hopeless, the birds had them.

Kielo gave a caw of triumph as he flew back down, striking Mervo. The young fox gave a yelp of pain. Kielo called to his crows, "Drop 'em! Drop 'em, then we'll feast!"

The crows began lifting them up slowly when they heard the cry.

"Redwaaaaaaaall! C'mon, vermints!" Bungle ran, eyes closed, and leapt at the crows, his hammer flying. Taking down the birds, his hammer plummeted as the mole forget it, instead using his digging claws to latch on to Kielo and Muera's wings. The crows were taken aback by Bungle's onslaught. The valiant mole was using all he had to grab at them as they fell through the air.

"Redwaaaaaaall!"

Kielo gave a yelp. "No! No!"

But it was too late. Him, Muera, and sixteen other crows were falling through the sky towards the rock-and-snow covered ground, weighted and pulled down by Bungle. They hit the ground hard, all instantly dying.

Everybody, even the crows stopped at their deaths. Gaping, the crows flew down over their leaders.

Hurriedly Rivertunnel grabbed Mervo and Erzvin and pulled them up. They all leaned against the mountain, pale and shocked at what happened.

Finally, Erzvin said, "Bungle... was a valiant mole. He knew what he was doing. He gave his life... for us."

They nodded sadly. Rivertunnel choked out, "He didn't enjoy any of this except our company. He went on this journey because of us, because he was our friend. He just wishes to live at peace in Redwall."

Zeela nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. "Oh, even though we were foxes, Bungle knew we were good. He was there when we read Arbor's script, he knew what we were trying to do."

Mervo said nothing. Instead, he took out his hard sgian dhu and brushed away some snow to a part of the mountain that was more tough dirt than rock. He carved away, writing:

_In Memory of the mole Bungle_

_A wonderful and modest friend_

_Who saved my life._

Mervo then took his sgian dhu and threw it from the mountain, and turned back, not watching it fly through the air. They wordlessly continued up the mountain, on their quest to find the flowers of Icetor, unaware of a different bird watching them.

ooooooooooooo

"Log a Log! Come quick!" called the Guoraf scout, Welo.

Welo led Log a Log to a spot covered in dead crows. Followed by other shrews and goats, he showed them what he found. "This is the Sabre the fox had here, and this is the mole's hammer."

Arro strode forward. "Ach, this is the Croo Brethren, 'ere's their leader, Kielo." The goat kicked away the dead crow. "By 'ecky thump, look wot's under 'im! 'Tis the mole!"

The shrews crowded around where bungle lay, his claws still buried in the crows' wings. Log a Log Brus quickly made a decision. Pointing east, he said, "They went this way then the crows came down and attacked them, I'm sure of it! C'mon!"

Welo shook his head. "No, look. A lot o' these crows died from impact, they fell. I think they attacked them while they climbed the mountain." He pointed upwards.

Brus's face went slightly red as he tried to cover his error. "Yes, yes. Welo's right, up Mount Duboch it is! Come, we'll catch up with 'em soon enough!"

In the back Arro muttered to his friend, the goat Urthaxe. "Ah knoo wot's goin' on, those foxes betrayed 'em! Turned 'em into the croos, then dropped their weapons so we think they died too. They probably killed the otter too, an' took his axe."

Urthaxe nodded. "Be 'eck, we'll catch 'em. Once we catch oop to 'em there won't be 'nuff left to feed a croo."


	38. Chapter XXXVII

**The Western Mountains**

Srav gave a contented sigh as he sat upon a rock and pulled the Golden One from his belt and began toying with it, chuckling.

Darkfang came behind him, gasping, and then collapsed upon the ground.

Srav chuckled as he pulled a beaker from his belt and poured it down the fox's throat. Darkfang sputtered, then awoke, blinking. "I'm up, I'm up!"

Srav smiled. "Good. We're almost out of these mountains, then we can easily head down to Silvertung, sound okay? We'll go in an hour."

Darkfang looked up at him, a tired look on his face.

Srav shrugged. "Fine, three hours. But if we get eaten by Painted Ones, you only have yourself to blame.

Darkfang sighed and got up, then sat on a rock next to Srav. "Don't we have any food?"

The ferret chuckled. "You ate it all, remember?"

Darkfang sighed. "I'm taking a nap. Wake me in three hours."

The fox immediately plopped down and went into a deep slumber. Srav sighed and walked around, then his eyes caught on something. Unsheathing his dagger, he watched as a young sparrow settled down on a rock. Aiming his knife, he threw.

"Lunch!"

ooooooooooooo

Arzemath and his Painted Ones were in a much worse position. They had finally reached the mountains, and weren't getting anywhere. His ancestors had once banished to the plains, but they had returned by the second generation. They kept jumping, expecting a branch to be there, then stumbled and fell to the ground. They slowly made their way across the plains, and now through the mountains, where their paint made them stand out.

"For the Golden One!" he called to the rats. "Go, we must catch'em!"

"Yesyes!" replied the rats. "Wegofaster! Runrunrun!"

Arzemath sighed and slumped back in his stretcher. The Golden One must be returned if they were to continue their life. "Gogogo!"

If he went to the Dark Forest without the Golden One there, he would suffer greater than any chieftain. So he must, he must, he must.

The sun was setting and the moon was rising. The rats revered the moon, and the night. As they saw it they began to pray to the moon for strength to get the Golden One.

**The Swamp**

Sanlo the Toad sighed as he saw the moon drifting slowly down. Waving Clawd's stiletto, he hopped over to where he saw a group of vermin walking through a trench to the swamp. He held his stiletto in the air. "Rrrrrreb! They're coming! They're coming! Rrrreb! Vermin!"

The Grubloe toads immediately hopped over and raised their bows. The vermin would be getting no help from them.

**The Shore**

Vafír Silvertung watched as General Zäev ran back to him. "Master Silvertung! I bear news! The toads have gone back on their deal, we must fight without them!"

Vafír waved his paw. "Of little consequence. We have the Blue Hordes now, you see. Tomorrow is the seventh day, then we will rule Salamandastron!"

The vermin around the camp began settling down into their cots. Tomorrow would be a long day.

oooooooooooo

Dedclaw the rat slavemaster and his weasel goons glared at the score of slaves they had. Vafír had given them equal rations to the horde, saying, "What use is a starved slave?" Now all the found had been taken out of slavemastering, he wasn't even allowed to use the whip.

The slaves were very happy about this. With the exception of Verane and Marko, they were content where they were. They were treated well enough, much better than they had before. But to the surprise of many, Branos Tuffkwill had become less content than before.

The hedgehog had enjoyed his first taste of freedom when they almost made it, and was determined for a second chance. They were not kept in a cage, but their waists were tied to a post. Branos slowly scooted over to where Verane and Marko where sitting.

"Listen, mates, I got an idea."

Verane sighed. "We can't do much, y'see. The fox gave us bandages, but that's it."

Marko and Verane were covered in bandages from their torture wounds. But the otters listened to Branos's plan nevertheless, as did a few surrounding slaves.

Once they heard it they nodded, with the exception of an old mousemaid called Jemmy. "Oh, we'll git caught, I'm sure of it. We're good enough–"

Branos brought his paw down hard on her head, and said to a big, hefty otter, "Ye'll carry her. Only Dedclaw an' a few o' 'is goons are up, we can take 'em, just follow the plan."

The strong hedgehog put his pas on the rope around his waist, and moved as far forward as he could. Each slave strong enough did the same thing as well, each looking at a different goon, while Branos aimed at Dedclaw.

_Whump! Thump! Whump! _

The slaves yanked at their ropes with all their might, and the posts flew threw the air, most landing atop the captors. Branos struck the rat's skull, and the slavemaster was never to rise again.

"Go!" whisper shouted Branos. The hedgehog grabbed Dedclaw's knife and began cutting the ropes. Quietly but quickly, they ran south along the coast, knowing the Wroots were up north. They ran until they heard a voice.

"Hurr, cumm 'ere, poor 'uns."

The escapees turned to see the homely face of Ergo Dubbo the mole, who beckoned them into his home carved from a hill.

Wordlessly they walked in. A stone stove was there, as was a small table. The shelter was small, but it was shelter. They were free!

ooooooooooooo

Lord Brawblade paced around his bedchamber as he watched the moon rising into the sky. The white fox knew what he was doing. The disease had taken nearly half his fighter, the vermin outnumbered them clearly. But what could they do? Give up, surely not. They would fight. What if they were to lose? Salamandastron would fall. It's fallen before, to the Blue Hordes of Ungatt Trunn. Now the Blue Hordes have returned. A few hares could escape. Then they could gather an army and return. But Silvertung has more warriors in the south and east, he could get their help.

Nervous thought zoomed through the badger's mind. He decided what he must do.

He walked to his forge. It was filled with great weapons, armor, ores, and a fire that was never to be put out. Going between a crack, Lord Brawblade began observing the carvings on the wall.

ooooooooooooo

Brigadier Bristlefur was creating all the strategies he could. The hare was a gifted strategist, and knew he must do all he could to win. The Rogue, The Long Patrol, and those travelers at the mountain, they would all be necessary. But he must know what the fox would do to counter him. The aged, tough hare sighed and flopped down into his chair, putting his head into his paws. What trouble had they gotten into?

ooooooooooooo

Alfar Miggory had recovered from his unconsciousness. He couldn't sleep with all the anxiety, so he was practicing with his katana. He needed to be ready for the fight tomorrow. Amamo had taught him many things, flicking the blade, cuts, and more. He gave a sigh with exhaustion and made the mistake of looking out his window into the distance. Once again he fainted as he saw a wicked-looking rat smiling back at him.

oooooooooooo

Anera sighed and slumped down on her bed. This was supposed to be her chance for an adventure! She had gotten more than she'd bargained for, doubting she would make it out alive. Brawblade had given her a dirk, and Findelo had taught her how to use it, but she hoped she wouldn't need to. It appears her mother was right...

oooooooooooo

Aar Krullen the hedgehog was in the near-empty dining room, eating apple pie. He watched a young hare working taking on a deeper-n-ever turnip-n-tater-n-beetroot pie. Aar chuckled as hr scoffed it, the hedgehog always had a soft spot for young ones. He sighed as he thought about what would happen to them in the coming battle.

Then he got an idea.

oooooooooooo

Amamo was surprised when Aar Krullen burst into his room. Jokingly, the hedgehog said, "I got an idea. If ye wanna steal credit for it, come on!"

Amamo laughed and followed his friend.

oooooooooooo

Hurqu strode into the dining room with Brockhammer, all had been called there. They chose their seats near Tharius, Anera, and Findelo, but they were not allowed to sit right next to each other in the Mortifer's time. Standing on a makeshift stage was Brawblade, Amamo, Brigadier Bristlefur and Aar Krullen.

"Ah wunder wot they called us 'ere for," said Hurqu.

He was answered as Brawblade spoke.

"Hares of the Long Patrol, Otters of the Rogue Crew, my cousin and his friends, I am proud to announce that we have a plan!"

There was a cheer from the audience. Brawblade held his massive paw in the air and they began to slowly quiet now. "Bristlefur?" said Brawblade.

The gruff hare walked forward. "H'I have created h'a plan based h'on wot I know h'of the fox. The h'answer h'is simple, we just can't let him h'in, wot wot! H'A boulder here, h'a boulder there, h'an' two-score hares guardin' the h'entrances, we're good, wot! Simple bur brilliant, h'I think!"

There was a scattered applause, expecting the plan to be more intricate and detailed, but there was no denying the practicality of it. They watched as Brigadier backed down, saying, "Now, there's more to the plan, made by these two good chaps, h'an' h'I think 'tis bally good!"

Aar Krullen and Amamo came to the front of the stage, and Amamo, quickly said, "Well, my good fellows, could ye believe, but I've come up with a plan, a good one, too!"

Brockhammer muttered to Hurqu, "Aar came up with this, I'm sure of it." The badger and goat stifled laughter as the rabbit continued.

"Well, as ye can see, we are in the lesser favor–" a chorus of _boo_s came from the Long Patrol and Rogue Crew–"of fate, here, badly outnumbered. So ye see, I was thinkin', just in case, the ones that can't fight can escape through the tunnels me an' my friend went through, and if the battle turns an' the brigadier's plan fails... well, we can survive, then we can take revenge on the vermin!"

There was scattered, unenthusiastic applause. Sighing, Aar called out, "We have a plan to escape right under the nose of that white fox, then come back an' slay 'im! Eulaaaaaliiiiiiaaaa!"

There was laughter and applause from Aar's remark, especially from Brockhammer, Hurqu, Tharius, Findelo, and Anera. Brawblade stepped up and called to the hares, "Now go to sleep, no stayin' up late! Now! We'll need to have energy tomorrow!"

ooooooooooooooo

Tharius Squirrelprince was dreaming. The mouse was there again, Martin the Warrior.

_"Tharius, listen to me."_

_The squirrel nodded. "What do you wish for me to do?"_

_The mouse walked up. They were in the middle of a large fortress, with graves around. The mouse strode forward. "You must follow Aar Krullen's plan."_

_Tharius's eyes widened. "What? No! This is my chance to get back at Vafír! If I get my chance I can beat him!"  
_

_Martin sighed and threw his sword on the ground. "You must learn wisdom and patience, young one. You are too brash. I was once like you, but it is important to learn that it is more than just waving a sword to become a warrior."_

_Tharius sighed. "Listen, I need–"_

_"You will have your chance for revenge. But if you do this battle, you will not get your chance."_

_The squirrel was in a fury. "Are you saying we'll lose?"  
_

_Martin neither confirmed this nor denied it, just said, "I'm saying you will not survive. I must go now, but you must think."_

_Before Tharius had a chance to argue, the scene and the mouse dissipated into the air, leaving the squirrel alone._


	39. Chapter XXXVIII

**The Shore**

Vafír awoke briskly and ready, a full night's rest.

Occisor ran into his tent, the Wroots leader making his report. "They've blocked the entrances with stone, even the top crater."

Silvertung waved his paw. "No matter, my water rat friend. Now, look..."

He pulled some gray powder from his coat. "Those stones won't last long."

oooooooooooo

Alca the weasel awoke groggily to see the dead bodies of the other weasels, the slavemaster, and the slaves gone.

His eyes widened. He jumped up and ran, shouting, "Escape! Escape!"

Zäev the pine marten held out his paw and tripped him, sending him flying. "Nobody cares about the slaves, we'll get them later, weasel. Now, we must focus on the battle at paw. It is the seventh day."

The weasel nodded. "Yes, yes, of course. Yer right. The mountain will be ours by the days end."

ooooooooooooo

Varjyl and the crew had full control over Radge the stoat. "Alright, so, once we win, we slip some wolfsbane in his drink. Simple as that, matey!"

Radge nodded. "Got it. Hoho, that fox'll pay fer gittin' Ole Bloodpatch. He was the best cap'n we've 'ad, mates!"

They all nodded their sincere agreement. Varjyl winked at Radge. "By t'night you'll rule the mountain, if we do this right, cap'n!

oooooooooooooo

The vermin hordes climbed out of their cots. They hefted their weapons proudly, donned helmets and armor. Across the shore the vermin stood proudly, ready to take the mountain. They looked to their leader. Vafír Silvertung, his general, Zäev, and Occisor the Wroots leader.

Vafír raised his sabre in the air.

"My horde, we have traveled a long way! We have lost good friends, but now victory is in sight! Each and every one of you are powerful and smart–" Mentally, Vafír said, _Well, not those Blue Hordes beasts, but they have numbers, _"And you can fight. We will be able to take this mountain, and we will become the strongest vermin horde in history! Our empire will flourish! Blue Hordes, the blood in your veins is the same as the blood that once conquered Salamandastron before! Wroots, you carry the blood of the great army that served the Marlfox! And my own warriors are the same beasts that conquered Southsward and everything south of it! Combined we will take Salamandastron and be the greatest of the great!"

The vermin cheered. They raised their weapons and pounded the sand to the beat of their war-cry. "Silvertung! Silvertung! Victory's in sight! Silvertung! Silvertung! We will win this fight!"

**Salamandastron**

Tharius awoke sadly. He walked down to the dining room for breakfast, where hares and otters were eating. However, though they would usually be scoffing in joy, they were to anxious to fully enjoy their meal, and most had hardly touched their food. The squirrel walked down to where Amamo, Aar Krullen, Brockhammer, Findelo, Anera, and Hurqu were sitting. The goat seemed to be enjoying his food the most, scoffing it. There was also the young hare Alfar, who had been invited by Amamo.

Tharius sighed as he sat down.

Hurqu nudged him. "Och, why the long face, laddie?"

Tharius frowned. "I was visited by Martin again."

Anera brightened up. "Really? What'd he tell you?"

The squirrel let his head hang. "I have to escape in the tunnels."

The others sighed as they realized his predicament.

"Och, sorry, lad. Ah mean, this was yer chance to get back at the fox."

Brockhammer frowned. "I know how you feel. I must go through the tunnels as well."

They looked at him. "What?"

The big badger nodded. "Brawblade asked me too. Just in case... something goes wrong... I can lead the survivors."

The were was a silence, broken by Brockhammer saying, "Doubt I'm ready. Brawblade was allus better than me at commandin' forces."

They nodded. Anera said, "Well, I'm going to. The abbeydwellers don't usually teach fight skills, I'm not very good."

Findelo nodded. "I can't go either, more o' a roamer than a fighter, see. Besides, if I die, who'll be left to sing about the battle."

With that the mouse leapt on the table and began strumming a tune with his lute. "This piece is called the Battle o' the Big Blueberry Bakewell Tart. Hope it'll liven things up."

He started tapping his feet to the beat as he sang.

"Ooooh, 'twas the thirty and fourth o' spring,

On that hot day the bells went _ding ding ding!_

And at that sound we began the charge and pushed forth our carts,

At the Battle o' the Big Blueberry Bakewell tart!

Oooh, the other side had mean ole beasts,

Foxes an' rats an' weasels ready to feast,

But so were we, especially me, don't ye see,

So I bowled 'em away with my big ole cart,

At the Battle o' the Big Blueberry Bakewell tart!

Quick as a flash I grabbed the prize,

And into my cart it went,

But as I ran hastily ran back, I got attacked by a nasty ole rat,

And their a leader the big ole wildcat,

So I battered that rat an' whacked the cat an got the tart back,

Threw the vermin aside an' put the food in the cart...

An' won the Battle o' the Big Blueberry Bakewell Tart!"

The hares and otters applauded the ditty. Findelo promptly bowed, saying, "Thank you, thank you!"

He returned to his seat where his friends were laughing.

"Thank you, Findelo, that was good," said Tharius.

The mouse dipped his feathered hat and winked. "Not a problem. Wait'll ye hear the Combat o' the Clotted Cream Crumble!"

oooooooooooooo

Lord Brawblade watched proudly as Findelo renewed his warrior's spirits. The warriors resumed eating with their normal energy, and started bragging about past battles. But it was still unknown if it would be enough for this battle.

oooooooooooooo

Young and old hares, Tharius, Anera, Findelo, and Brockhammer went into the dark, winding tunnels. The squirrel carried Martin's sword and a torch, as did a few others. Brockhammer led the way.

There was many forks in the road, and they didn't have a perfect memory of the place, but it was good enough. Once they found the body of the massive spider they would be sure of where they were.

Then Brockhammer stopped at a fork in the road. Tharius walked up to him. "What is it?"

The badger bit his lip. "The massive spider, it's not here!"

They were lost!

oooooooooooooo

Deep in the tunnels, the adder finished its meal. The massive spider was large, but it was in poor condition, and the adder wanted more. Now it smelled fur-covered creatures, it's favorite kind. It slithered through the tunnels.

"Furry creatures... They will not be able to hide from Ssssssssssalasssssssor Ssssssssssicksssssssssssleep! I will find them!"

oooooooooooooo

Vafír held up the paw holding the gray powder, and threw it on the rock in front of the entrance. "Zäev!"

The pine marten threw a pouch of water at the rock, then quickly jumped back just in time to avoid the explosion that killed the hares behind the rock. Then the pine marten drew his rapier and led the charge.

"Silvertung! Silvertung! Victory's in sight! Silvertung! Silvertung! We will win this fight!"


	40. Chapter XXXIX

**Salamandastron**

Zäev was upon the hares, slashing with his rapier. The pine marten was a skilled fighter, he slew the hares with ease. Parrying, slashing, stabbing, cutting, thrusting, he slew the hares with ease. The vermin that charged behind him hardly had it easy, Zäev had already slain half of the score of hares positioned there. The vermin behind them had an easy job slaying the remaining hares viciously, not letting one survive.

Just before she was cut down, the final hare shouted, "They're coming from the front! We need back-up, now!"

Through the caverns poured hares and otters, armed to the teeth. In the limited space they had the position to be able to hold the mountain for hours. The vermin charged, hitting the Long Patrol and the Rogue hard, but between the axes flying, swords slashing, and spears thrusting, the vermin were unable to come close to making it past the powerful hares and sea otters.

A pretty young hare named Kally, who used to be a runner but was now a proud soldier stabbed with her sword, taking out a rat. The vermin screamed as she pulled the spear out and butted a weasel with the back of the spear.

Then the fox entered. He wore a red vest with a gold trim and a green tunic underneath, and dark blue pants and light brown boots. He had four scars on his face but his fur was neatly combed and it looked more like he would be going to a dinner party than a battle. His sabre was out and he walked slowly. A big, strong Rogue Crew Otter swung at him with a battle-axe, but the white fox gracefully and slightly dodged, and the axe swung down and hit the stone ground with such force it shook the sea otter's paws. Fluidly Vafír subtly turned and slashed with his sabre, slitting the otter's throat and killing it instantly.

Kally gave a short gasp of fear as the fox turned neatly and slashed at her neck as he did with the otter, slaying her. He then turned and did the same to the big hare next to her, ducking under the sweeping axe. He jumped over a swordblade and killed the fighter by slicing at the top of its head, and kicked an otter bigger than himself to the ground before killing it with a thrust to the heart.

The fox then quit his slow attack. He then took a step back, then charged forward, killing and slaying with upmost ease. He was followed by his horde, calling, "Silvertung! Silvertung! Victory's in Sight! Silvertung! Silvertung! We will win this fight!"

Zäev the Pine Marten took command of the other half of the horde, stopping the hares and otters that were attacking from the right side go after Vafír's warriors, attacking from behind. The Pine Marten was like lightning with his rapier, stabbing and slashing at his adversaries. Cutting down the warriors, he called to his group. "Come! We can win this battle, now!"

Radge and his crew followed the Vafír's group, hoping to get a chance at the fox's unprotected back. Bloodtoe took his chance and grabbed the searats Crabtooth and Ripjaw's arms. Though the battle was happening, he took his chance and held his knife to their neck. "I'm giving you a chance to live, rat. They plan on killing the emperor?"

Nervously, Crabtooth's first reaction was to nod. He tried to stop himself, but it was too late, especially when Ripjaw added, "Aye, yes, we were. But now we're not!"

Sighing, Bloodtoe kicked them away and mixed with the rest of the charging horde, then came up just behind Silvertung. "Emperor, the crew is coming behind you, they plan on killing you."

Nodding slightly, Vafír acknowledged the rat's warning while he cut down a big sea otter. Under his breath he began counting. "One... two... three... four... five... six... seven!"

Like a whirlwind the fox leaped into the air over the head of the weasel Varjyl, who stabbed into the air with his knife. Vafír ended his bafflement with a swift sword thrust, then turned and stabbed the charging Radge. Calling to the rest of the horde, "Keep going, we'll win this fight!", he slashed down a stoat. His keen, violet eyes caught the remaining crew, who were trying to meld back within the horde or retreat to the back. With efficiency he leaped through the air, not letting one survive.

"That'll teach you to mess with Vafír Silvertung, Emperor of the Lands, he said to the final vermin he killed, the rat Oiltail. The white fox then returned to the battle, leading his vermin to victory.

oooooooooooo

A gallant hare captain called Forleep had taken command of the Long Patrol soldiers near him. He saw the pine marten leading the vermin on an onslaught, slaying the hares and otters. The vermin were sustaining heavy losses, but it was worse to the hares and otters who already had severely depleted forces.

"Forward the buffs!" called Captain Forleep. "Spears h'an' pikes h'in front, prepare for h'a fight, wot wot! We'll take them by surprise, we'll charge h'against their charge, call h'it h'a counter charge h'if you like. Hold those spears h'an pikes h'out to get h'as much vermin as ye can, wot wot wot! Now, ready, hold h'on, charge! Eulaaaaaliiiiiiiaaaaaaaa!"

The hares and otters charged forward, the pikes and spears far out reaching the vermin's shorter weapons. It was only Zäev's swiftness that saved his life as he jumped up and kicked at the spear before jumping back and killing the hare with a rapier thrust while he was trying to regain control of the kicked spear.

Zäev pointed at the weak spot he had made, then shouted, "Charge! Silvertung! Silvertung! Victory's in Sight! Silvertung! Silvertung! We will win this fight!"

"Close h'in that gap, slay the pine marten, chaps!" commanded Captain Forleep.

Zäev realized he had made a mistake by leading the vermin through the gap in the spears. It would have been smarter to take the spear and pikebeasts from the sides while they had the chance, but now it was too late. The other vermin were easily slaughtered by the hares and otters closing in, but not the pine marten. Ducking down to dodge an axe swipe, he took a hare low, then ran forward and took out a big sea otter.

Letting the otter fall atop him, he used it as a heavy shield. Trying to stay up, he felt as the body was pierced with swords, spears, arrows, pikes, and axe swipes. Staying low, he pushed to the left wall, using the otter to shield his front and the wall to shield his back as he shuffled to the side, trying to break through back to his own men.

A reckless, loyal young rat called Bladewhisker shouted to the other vermin, "Git our leader! 'Elp 'im!"

Pulling out a spear he charged at one of the spearhares, taking it low. Running over the carcass, he slew another hare before nearly being taken down by a big otter.

The two dead were enough for the pine marten. Stabbing his rapier between the otter's shoulder blades and saving Bladewhisker's life, he broke back to his own fighters.

Pointing at the gap made by Bladewhisker's kill, he shouted, "Kill these hares, now!"

The vermin came and attacked the hares from the side at close range, slaughtering them.

Zaev pointed toward the hares. "Kill them all! Silvertung! Silvertung! Victory's in Siiiiiiiiiiiight!"

oooooooooooooo

Lord Brawblade Wildstripe stood in front of the large, boulder in front of Salamandastron's treasure room, along with Thorkrig Axehound and Brigadier Bristlefur when Amamo the rabbit leaped to them, wearing a helmet and wielding a small club, closely followed by Aar Krullen, unable to wear armor because of his spikes but using a solid bronze spear. Just behind them was Alfar Miggory, his katana blade reddened.

"They're comin', fast! They've got two groups, both led with powerful fighters!" cried Amamo.

Alfar was gasping. "My first h'an' second kill, h'I don't feel so good."

Thorkrig waved his big paw. "Ye'll git used to it. So the fox is leadin' one, from the front?"

Aar Krullen nodded. "Aye, 'tis so."

Thorkrig laughed. "We'll take 'im! Once their leader's down-"

"They're coming!" came a voice. Captain Fabian Longleep was running down the tunnel. "Nasty group, wot! Led by h'a marten, who killed Cap'n Forleep! Trouble, wot!"

Brawblade was paying attention to the hare's warning, but also to moving the boulder. In a deep voice, he said, "All of you. Go. I'll take the fox, this is an order inside my mountain. Now!"

Alfar opened his mouth to argue, but was silenced by a glare from his badger lord. He and Brigadier Bristlefur dutifully went into the rock tunnel, followed by Captain Fabian.

"No! I'm going to- hey!" Thorkrig was lifted by the scruff of his neck by the badger lord and thrown behind the boulder. He made to run back, but the Brigadier and Captain Fabian grabbed his arms and held him. His face red, the sea otter shouted, "Let me go an' fight, now! I never run from a battle, never! Hoolawhey! Hoolaaaaawheeeeey!"

The badger looked at Aar and Amamo. They began slowly walking to the tunnels, Aar a bit faster than Amamo.

"They're comin', they're- aaaagh!"

A running hare went down, a javelin in his throat.

"Run!" boomed Brawblade.

Aar Krullen leapt behind the boulder. Amamo was just behind him when a javelin flew threw the air, piercing the rabbit through the back.

"No!" shouted Aar Krullen, as Brawblade, his face sad, pushed the boulder back in place, blocking him off.

The badger lord turned back and grabbed the weasel that had thrown the javelins. Shouting, "Eulalia!", he crushed the vermin against the wall. More vermin came, and he could see the pine marten Captain Fabian spoke of leading them. Growling, he crushed another weasel and a rat against the floor, and called through the mountain tunnels.

"Come your death vermin, especially you, Silvertung! Come face me! Will you fight me like a warrior, or with your army in front of you, like the coward you are!"

"I am no coward!" shouted the white fox, appearing as if out of thin air. Immediately the vermin stopped fighting and backed away from the powerful badger.

The fox continued. "I led my charge from the very front, facing your soldiers bravely. You stayed in the back, as you say I did. Badger, I am not like other vermin warlords."

Silvertung went on, "Why do these hares follow you? Because you are a skilled fighter and intelligent strategist. But also because you happen to be a badger that came upon this mountain. You came here and the hares were already trained and you already had a fortress. Now me? I raised an empire from the ground, gathering the loyalty of tens of thousands, conquering everything in the south and personally training my soldiers. So I'm the coward? Let's see about that. Bloodtoe?"

The gray rat came and held up a red cloth. "This is a duel between chieftains! No interference is allowed. You may start when I say begin, and not before. Now, seven... six..."

The badger was unfazed by the fox's insults. The massive badger drew the great broadsword of Lord Brocktree, holding it in position. His vision began misting red as he glared at his hated enemy.

"Four..."

The white fox grinned maliciously, holding his sabre with both paws. His red vest was hardly rumpled from the battle, nor was his green tunic. His fur was no longer neatly combed though, and one of his four scars had started bleeding. Nevertheless, his violet eyes radiated confidence as he prepared for the fight.

"Two... One!" Bloodtoe leaped back to the ring the vermin made. "Begin!"

The badger charged, shouting, "Euuulaaaaliiiiaaa!" as the fox prepared to dodge.

The duel had begun!


	41. Chapter XL

**Salamandastron**

The white fox neatly dodged the charging badger, leaping in front of the wall. He watched as the badger turned towards him, even more furious.

"Eeeeeeeuuuuuulaaaaaaaliiiiiiiiaaaaaa!" Brawblade once again charged, as wild and messy as the first. Silvertung once again slid to the left, then ran around and stood in front of the other wall, just next to a dim. Had he waited any longer, he would have seen Brawblade grin as the badger stopped just before he bowled into the wall. This was all part of the plan.

The vermin ring was over, they were afraid one of the fighters would charge into them, so they just blocked the fighters from going down into the tunnels of Salamandastron.

Brawblade turned to face the white fox, sword ready. He then charged once more, even more wild then the first two. "Eeeeeeeeeeeeuuuuuuuulaaaaaaaaaaliiiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaa!

Smirking, Silvertung leapt to the side by jumping in the air, not expecting what would come next. Masterfully, Brawblade stood on his toes and turned ever so slightly and grace fully, his paw going back and catching the leaping fox mid-air. The small fox gave a gasp as the wind was knocked from him by the badger's huge paw, and the sabre went flying through the air, clattering on the rock ground, as did the great sword of Lord Brocktree. Skillfully, Brawblade turned back and pressured the fox against the wall, crushing him.

The vermin gave a gasp of fear as they saw their great leader dying. Was this the fall of Silvertung?

oooooooooooooo

"Lemme go! I'm Thorkrig Axehound, leader o' the Rogue Crew! Lemme go! Lemme go! Hooolaaaaawheeeey! Gerroff me!"

The hares were struggling to keep the big otter down. He struggled against his captors in a desperate attempt to break them and return to the fight. Writhing on the rock ground, the sea otter fought against three hares desperately. Aar Krullen slowly walked behind them, a few meters back.

Amamo... Brockhammer would take over control of the Long Patrol, there was no chance Brawblade could survive such great vermin hordes, even if he did manage to kill the white fox. The Traveling Tradebeast Trio was going to an end. What would he do? Amamo and Brockhammer were his greatest friends, but now Amamo... and Brockhammer would become a military beast. What was he to do?

Maybe he'd go to Redwall Abbey. Anera had told them all about it, she seemed very prideful of the place. Still, wouldn't be the same as roaming. Maybe he could join Findelo and go about the country, visiting places. Of course, if they somehow managed to win this, he could go back with his family, though that brought him back to Redwall. Good land, good beasts, the rest of his tribe would be ecstatic there, but Aar didn't know. He was too used to fighting.

He shook his head. "No. It's not good, fighting's brought all this misfortune."

"Where do we go?"

"'Ow should I know? I was jus' followin' the badger!"

The voices echoed down the tunnels, and Alfar's keen ears perked up. "I hear them! Let's go!"

The three hares and hedgehog ran as fast as they could through the tunnels, still dragging a screaming otter.

Brockhammer's face was tired, and the badger looked confused. The young and old hares were all looking to the badger, expecting him to do something. The five survivor's came into the area, parting the crowd with the struggling otter.

Brockhammer sighed, and looked down at them, his eyes sad. He mouthed, _My brother? Amamo?_

Aar Krullen, who was not struggling to control Thorkrig hung his head. He pulled out a piece of bark and charcoal and hurriedly scribbled his message on it.

Brockhammer sighed. His voice slightly cracking, he quietly said to the hares, "Lord Brawblade is giving his life. He hopes to slay the cruel beast that started this, that blasted fox, Silvertung.

Their was an immediate cry of outrage. An old hare shouted, "Not Brawblade!"

"No!"

"He better kill that fox, an bring down a few other vermin!"

Brigadier Bristlefur jumped to Brockhammer's side. "Listen here, chaps! I know Brawblade, he knows wot he's doin'! No doubt he's standin' just above us, that fox dead in his paws!"

ooooooooooooo

Not quite. Emperor Silvertung _was _dying, but he wasn't dead yet. Brawblade's striped face was in front of his, eye's red as the blood leaking from the rabbit on the ground's back. Brawblade was quietly whispering to the fox, "You will pay for the lives of my hares. You will pay for the lives of my hares. You will pay..."

The fox's free arms were scrambling at his chest pockets, trying to find something, anything, that would help. A few twigs, a chess bishop, a red handkerchief, and a small glass vial. They fell to the floor as the fox dropped, them, but just before he dropped the vial, he realized something.

The dark liquid was the foul thing that he had obtained to trick the toads into thinking that he was a Bulgum, that could set water on fire.

Instinctively he uncorked it and threw it at the badger's face, the liquid splashing. Some got in his eye, but the badger simply growled, in his rage he hardly noticed.

Then the fox noticed the heat on his face. He turned his head as much as he could to see a torch just above it and to the left. Not believing his luck, he grabbed it with his left paw and threw it at the badger.

Brawblade gave a roar of pain and dropped the fox to the floor. The front of his face erupted in flames that were rapidly spreading across his fur, releasing a foul odor. The vermin let out a cheer for their leader.

Brawblade roared again, the flames nearly engulfing him. Silvertung looked in fear, seeing that the badger was not dead yet. Covered nearly entirely in flames, his eyes burnt out, his nose and mouth engulfed, and ears turning to ash, the only sense he had remaining was feeling immense pain, but the keen mind was racing, and he knew where Silvertung must have fallen.

Giving a yelp, he scrambled across the floor to where his sabre lie. Just before he picked it up though, his eyes gazed to the sword of Lord Brocktree, which was nearly as big as the fox himself.

Following instinct, he grabbed the hilt of the sword and stood, then began attempting to lift it.

Brawblade had stepped on the sabre, then turned his head and began walking toward where Silvertung was, his paws on the hilt.

The fox grunted as he heaved with all his might, trying as best he could to lift the sword. Just as the flaming badger lord roared and charged at Silvertung, adrenaline and fear kicked in.

The sword clumsily was lifted into the air and suddenly began pulling the fox forward and down just as the badger lord hit. The massive sword pierced him right through the stomach, blood gushing out and dousing the flames.

Brawblade roar-cried in pain, but still he was not finished. With a sword going through his stomach and coming out the back, ruined senses, and engulfed in flames, Brawblade was dying, but was determined to take Emperor Silvertung with him to the Dark Forest.

Eyes wide with fear, Silvertung leaped over and picked up his sabre, then back in front of his vermin ranks. Brawblade, guessing what he would do, turned to them, flaming paws out stretched. With a mighty charge, he shouted, "Euuuuuuulaaaaaaaaaaaliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaaaa!"

"Part! Part now!" cried Silvertung, leaping to the side. Nearly all vermin followed as he did, except for an unfortunate rat.

Brawblade blasted through, one of his great paws grabbing the screaming rat. Laughing aloud, "Aha, Silvertung! I've-" he stopped as he felt the dying rats large ears. "This is not you! I will-"

They would never know what Brawblade was going to do, because, as he was unable to stop his fierce charge, he blasted right into the rock wall.

If it wasn't the sharp, strong points of the uncut rock that pierced the badger lord right through, or the sudden, great impact, or the fire finally getting to him that killed Brawblade, it was that Lord Brocktree's sword was pushed right through him, the hilt going all the way through and stabbing out his back. Brawblade stayed there, held up by the rock points, fire and blood mixing, the sword hanging loosely by the hilt stuck in the tough skin.

The fox gave a sigh of relief. He had won!

ooooooooooooo

The blood-red sun setting, the white fox was pushing the charred carcass into the sea, laughing. He watched as the waves caught onto it, and shouted. "I told you, badger, but you didn't listen! For is not your charred carcass being pushed out to sea?"


	42. Chapter41 BookIII:TheBattleofSevenHordes

**A/N Book III! Sorry for the clumped title chapter, but it was too long to process... Hope you enjoyed the last few chapters! Onward!**

**Redwall (Beastcrusher Castle)**

Dedmark Valldun watched as the burly stoat captain, Firak, floated lazily in the Abbey Pond. While most vermin feared water, the stoat was perfectly fine in it, and sneered when others cried in fear when they were forced to go in water. The big ferret watched him through yellow eyes, scheming. Griv would have to go. Too temperamental to manipulate, too stupid to lead himself. Firak was something else. With Griv dead, the stoat would of course be selected leader. Why not? The other captains and the horde respected him far more.

The horde... now less than two-score vermin. A weasel had been gruesomely executed by being flung from the bell tower top for lying (telling a truth Griv didn't like), that most of the horde was going east, saying Griv was an idiot madbeast that cared more for food than his own soldiers. They all agreed with him, but everybeast was wise enough to keep their mouths shut.

Dedmark tested his arrow's point with his paw. His yellow eyes glancing from Firak to Griv Beastcrusher, strutting around the walls as the ferret began planning a double murder.

ooooooooooooo

Mudgell and Borgy Wiltud, expecting praise, ran out to greet the returning shrews. They did not get what they expected.

"Blast you!"

"Idiots, both of 'em!"

"Curse their names!"

The shrews were furious, holding their rapiers high. One, a fat, tall for a Guosim named Pingo was holding his rapier hilt, his eyes in slits as he shouted at the Wiltuds.

"You two! I demand revenge in the name o' Guosim shrews! Ye killed me brother, and I wan' payback!"

Borgy stepped back. "Hey, hey, we don' wan' no trubble. From wot we saw, we saved yer hides, those vermints were winnin' there!"

"You killed yer own side! Me brother! Ye'll git wot ye deserve, now!" He charged forward, drawing his rapier, when Mudgell tripped him. The shrew flew a few feet, landing on a patch of soil next to a tree. Growling, he got up, his rapier fully drawn, and turned to Mudgell and charged again. "I'll make ye pay fer that!"

Log A Log Trog leaped between them. For his age and weight, he moved incredible nimble. His left footpaw flew through the air, kicking Pingo hard in the shins. His right forepaw moved just after, hitting Pingo's right arm hard. Yelling in pain, Pingo dropped his weapon and glared at his chief. "I must take my revenge! It is the way of the Guosim!"

The shrew chieftain scowled. "You may take your revenge later. They _did _save our lives, an' we have other enemies; behind the red walls. We will need to take Redwall, and now's our chance, with the vermin scattered."

Pingo growled and stalked away, picking up his rapier. "Lost over three-'undred. I'll git back at those vermin!"

Mudgell sighed. "Always have to have somebeast to take revenge on, doesn' he? Ah well. We better–"

"Brother Ruford! Sister Tennyl! Tench!" cried Abbess Fern, running through the shrews as a score and four beasts began walking out through the trees.

"Abbess!" shouted back Sister Tennyl, running to hug Fern.

"You escaped!" called Cellarhog Corbo, looking surprised.

Ruford chuckled. "Didn't even guard us! Simple!"

Tench frowned. "Oooh! We forgot Durglo! The poor dormouse!"

Tennyl slapped a paw to her head. "We're fools! How could we!"

Log a Log Trog was over to her, patting her back. "'Tis alright. Ye'll git 'im back soon enough. We were just about to start plannin'!"

ooooooooooooo

Friar Durglo walked entered into the great hall where Griv Beastcrusher and his captains were waiting for them. His black fur wild as his yellow eyes, Griv Beastcrusher sat at the end of the table, so was the last to be served as the dormouse walked down.

The meal was a roast sparrow shot from the rooftop. Griv greedily sunk his fangs into it, grinning. His mouth full, he shouted at his captains. "Well, my ca'ns, woz thuh p'an?"

Deciphering Griv's talk, Firak answered by pulling out a sheet of parchment and a quill, laying it on the table and drawing a square.

He pointed at one side and said, "This is the west wall." He wrote _horde _on top of it. "We'll position all our soldiers here. Their numbers would matter less, as we can defend all the gaps in the wall." He drew a strip in front of the west wall, and beyond it several trees.

"They'll have to cross the pass, so we'll notice a charge. And if they try to use our trebuchet, well, we'll probably see, we have clear view without the wall and the trees are a bit thinner on the other side of the path. We'll see the projectiles fly, and, though they probably have very little projectiles left, we'll be able to dodge a bit."

The other captains nodded approvingly, Ragsnout even clapped his paws, but (though this hardly came to a surprise) Dedmark frowned.

"An' if yer great plan fails? Wot'll we do then?"

Firak grinned, and drew a wickergate on the north wall. "Us captains, and any others we can get, will escape through here, which locked outwardly but not inwardly. We can get to the ditch and head–er, I mean plot our revenge." The stoat was about to say go east, but a warning glare from Griv changed his mind.

Suddenly, Skivo the rat entered the abbey in a hurry. "King Griv! Captains! They're positionin' the trebuchet!"

oooooooooooooo

Out in Mossflower Woods Borgy and Mudgell were aiming the trebuchet, laughing.

"Hoho! Those vermin won't know wot 'it 'em!"

Their plan was simple. They would aim the trebuchet and the vermin would think they were attacking from the broken west wall. They would not know that their soldiers were sneaking around to the east wall.

They would bring the projectiles with them and line them up against the east wall. Abbess Fern hated what they were doing, but could not find a better plan. One would throw a spear, hitting and exploding the projectiles, destroying the undefended east wall. Then they would simply run over and strike the outnumbered vermin in the backs. Tench had thought of it, and the rest were going with it.

Borgy smiled. The battle to get Redwall back was soon to begin!


	43. Chapter XLII

**Redwall/Beastcrusher Castle**

**_BOOM! BOOMBOOMBOOM! BOOMBOOM! BOOM! BOOMBOOMBOOM! BOOM!_**

The explosion was vast and sudden, obliterating the east wall. Vermin guarding the east gave yells of shock that intensified when they heard the war-cries as Redwallers charged to get back what was theirs'.

"Redwaaaaaaaaaaaaaall!"

"Logalogalogalogalogalogalooooog!"

Griv Beastcrusher stood still for a moment, then, before Firak could tell them to retreat (their chances were dismal now), he shouted, "Get them! Charge!"

The vermin did as they were told, shouting, "Beeeeeeeeeaaaaaaastcrusher!"

Then Griv did what Firak least expected. His yellow eyes wide, he grabbed the stoats arm and said, "Get the other captains, and maybe a few others. We're fleeing.

Firak's frowned. "What? But what about the–"

The claws pierced his arm painfully. "Too easy to track. Those Redwallers'll want revenge, so only a few, now!," he roared.

Obediently, he ran to get the captains and as much vermin by telling them what was happening as he could before Griv shouted at him. "Enough! Come!"

Firak returned with most of the captains except Dedmark Valldun (Firak had caught onto the ferret's plans), Trizo, and the six that were there at the Castle when they returned: Scabs, Scarclaw, Scorpaw, Badtung, Warthide, and Slitear. Gorbac then ran out to them, dragging Durglo by his arm. "Now we gotta cook!" he called proudly.

Griv was secretly glad Gorbac had remembered Durglo. They quietly followed the wolverine through the destroyed west wall. Griv pointed a claw northward. "We go!"

ooooooooooooo

The vermin's charge had been ill-fated. Their spirits were less than high, two-score against two hundred. Worse, as they ran, the sparrows on the roof, who had been sick of providing food for the vermin, had gathered all their rubble and junk and heaved them over the roof toward the vermin. Though this really only slew three and injured one, it made them much more dispirited, and greater when they realized none of their leaders were in sight.

Log a Log Trog clearly saw that the vermin were defeated before any of their soldiers had done anything. Chuckling, he held up his sword and the shrews obediently stopped. Then he shouted to the vermin, "Oh, ye chaps are in a sorry state. No leaders, outnumbered... not nothin'!"

The vermin had already noticed this, and had virtually stopped their charge. They were just standing around, some of them pushing others forward. The shrews guffawed loudly at the state the vermin were in.

Dedmark scowled. He had just noticed the captains leaving, and was prepared to follow them, and make Firak pay. But first he was going to have some fun with these shrews. Raising his bow, he aimed at the one in front, his eyes squinted.

_Swish!_

The arrow flew through the air, hitting Log a Log Trog in the chest. The shrew chieftain gaped at it, then blood started pouring from his chest and mouth. He collapsed on the ground, the shocked shrews staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Pingo pointed his rapier at the ferret. "Are chieftain is slain! Make them all pay!"

The merciless shrews charged, faces full of fury. "For Trooooooog!" They shouted, "Logalogalogalogaloooooooooooooog!"

The vermin screamed and began running the opposite way, knowing only death awaited them if they attacked. A few in the back ran as swift as they could, breaking into the trees. Most were not as lucky. The shrews were nimble and deadly, their rapiers like scythes and the vermin like grain as they were slaughtered by the vengeful shrews. Vermin screams and shrew war-cries filled the air as the battle raged.

Dedmark Valldun grinned as he slipped past the ranks stealthily. Jumping across the path he vanished into the trees, careful not to leave tracks, but followed the unmistakeable pawprints of Griv Beastcrusher.

The ferret tested an arrow-point, a cruel smile growing on his face. Soon he would slay Griv and Firak, then grow his own army, and take back Redwall.

He laughed. Fort Valldun... it had a nice ring to it.

oooooooooooo

Firak glared in hatred at Griv Beastcrusher. Just leaving the whole horde like that... they could lose the shrews at the river, but no. Griv had left forty vermin to die.

He had always respected the wolverine for one thing. Despite his many flaws, the warlord had courage and power. A lot of it was stupidity and ignorance, but it was still courage. Now he realized Griv was a coward. Maybe it was the great explosions, or the final acceptance that they would not win that broke him. But Firak was still wise enough to keep his mouth shut.

Unfortunately, some were not. They had leaped down into the muddy ditch when the one of the vermin, Scabs, called out, "Wot're we doin'? Why are we desertin'?"

His companion, Slitear, nodded. "Aye! Yer right." He lowered his voice to a whisper, but not enough. "Hmm, appears the wolverine is a coward, too."

Griv Beastcrusher roared. His deadly claws were swift as they slashed the back of his neck, killing him. Scabs tried to duck, but the club swung hard, smashing him against the ditch wall.

"'Ey!" called Bludtail, taken aback Griv would slay his own in such a diminished force. "Wot was that fer? We need–"

The weasel got no further as the crude fangs of the wolverine brought down upon him, crushing his chest and neck with powerful jaws. Griv spat him out and laughed. "Nobeast speaks like that to Griv Beastcrusher! Ye've paid fer yer words! Firak, git these bodies outta– Firak?"

The wolverine looked around, but saw no one but the three bodies. "Firak? Rugfur? Ragsnout? Gorbac? Where are ye?"

He looked above the ditch to see Firak, Rugfur, Ragsnout, Gorbac, and the other vermin, along with Friar Durglo, being pulled by a rope in Rugfur's paws running through the woods. "Git back 'ere!" he barked.

Firak turned around. "Yer on yer own, Beastcrusher!"

"Turn 'round, or I'll kill ye all!"

Firak chuckled. "I'm already turned around, can't you see. You're a murderer, killed yer own fighters. And a coward too, left your troops to be kill by shrews. I tell you, we're not following you anymore, Beastcrusher!"

The stoat's eyes widened as he saw the wolverine, face full of fury, pull himself out of the ditch and begin running. Though the vermin had a head start, Griv moved incredibly fast despite his great size. Firak saw that he would be on them even if they bolted as fast as they could.

Giving a small yelp, he grabbed the weapon closest to him, Ragsnout's long pike. Closing his eyes he drove one end into the ground and held the other out, bracing for impact.

The stoat heard and felt a heavy thud as Griv crashed into the pike. Gasping as he stumbled back letting the weapon go, he slowly opened his eyes to see the pike holding the body of the wolverine up, one end in the Earth.

Then Firak relaxed, then he chuckled, then he laughed blissfully. "Haha! Oh, we did it! Here, Rag!"

Drawing upon his strength he yanked the pike from the body, causing the wolverine to collapse on the ground. Him jumping to the side as he gave the pike back saved his life.

_Swish!_

An arrow flew through the air, barely missing the burly stoat. It flew and struck Scarclaw through the chest, dropping him. Quick as a flash, Firak span around, muttering, "Dedmark."

Drawing his double-bladed axe, he charged forward to where the arrow had came from, jumping side to side as not to get hit himself. He hacked at some bushes, then snorted. "Gone. And I don't know anybody that can track Dedmark Valldun."

The vermin nodded. Then Gorbac asked, "So... Wot'll we do now?"

Firak smiled. "We'll steal one of the shrews' logboats and sail it upstream to Vafír and his vermin, tell them what happened. And–" He swung his axe, severing the rope holding Friar Durglo. The dormouse gave a squeak of relief and surprise, then scrambled back through the woods. Firak continued, "He'd slow us down. C'mon!"

As they walked through the woods, Scorpaw asked him, "But... Now the dormouse'll tell his friends. Those shrews are better waterbeasts than us, and have more to row. They'll catch us."

Firak smiled and patted his shoulder. "Clever. We're not actually doing that. How could we beat them in an upstream race? No, we'll steal one of their boats, but go downstream, to the east. Then we can join with the rest of the vermin, and the shrews will chase us the opposite way, following what the dormouse told them! Clever, eh!"

Scorpaw nodded vigorously. "Aye, Cap'n. Or are ye chief now, since ye killed Beastcrusher? An' I got somethin' to slow down any trackers." He pulled out a string with a bunch of fangs attached to it. "Poison," he said. He placed it on the ground, on to of a pawprint he had just made it, covering it with some leaves. "They lose their tracker this way, see? A trick me ole ma taught me."

Firak smiled. "We just lost Bludtail, so you're a captain now!"


	44. Chapter XLIII

**Mossflower Woods**

Dedmark Valldun gave a sigh of relief. Once Firak charged he knew he didn't have a chance. Stalking through the woods, he gave a yell of shock when he heard, "I've been waiting."

A gray squirrel leaped from the trees, fury in his yellow eyes. He took a rope and threw it around the ferret, who was trying to retreat. It looped around his neck and Dedmark yanked the gurgling ferret closer. "Ye'll pay fer killin' my daughter!" shouted the squirrel.

ooooooooooooo

"C'mon, Firak, everybeast knows water, 'specially riverwater, is bad fer ye," said Rugfur.

The stoat rolled his eyes. "Bah! Rubbish!"

Firak leaped into the water and swam a meter to the logboat, then clambered back on. His heavy fur soaked, he looked more like an otter than a stoat.

Badtung stupidly called out, "See! Now ye've changed species!"

Firak sighed and paddled with his paw so the boat was right next to the shore. The vermin got on, clearly afraid as Firak pulled up the anchor.

"Wot 'appens if we fall!"

"I've 'eard o' pikefishes, and those burbot things too! Rip ye to bits."

"Oh, don' put that in my mind! Now I'm thinkin' about wot 'appened to ole Ragclaw!"

Firak shook his head. "All of you, grab a paddle and divide, each to a side. There's only one pike around here, and one, no matter how big, can't take out a logboat. As long as you don't act as the idiots you usually are, we'll be fine."

The vermin caught on, though slowly. Leaving the other logboats, they paddled uncertainly, and Warthide accidentally fell off, so Firak had to pull the screaming vermin back on. Slowly, they began to get the hang of it, paddling in unison, helped by the gentle flow of the river.

Firak laughed. "See, it's not so hard! Soon we'll be free!"

The vermin chuckled, nervously at first, but then it became blissful laughing.

ooooooooooooo

"He killed our chief!"

"He killed by daughter!"

Guggle had Dedmark with his rope, strangling the ferret. The shrews heard the noise and came, and demanded that they were to kill the bowbeast, while Guggle claimed he had the right.

"I caught him! Back off!"

Pingo scowled. "Ye kill him an' we'll 'ave to kill ye, law o' the Guosim, who kills the killer becomes chieftain, an' who kills the killer's killer becomes chief!"

"Bah! Ye Guosim are ridiculous. He's nearly gone now."

Dedmark was in shock. He was had no chance of surviving this.

Pingo scowled. "Yer daughter was a spoiled brat! Our chieftain was great!"

This did it. Guggle let go and leaped at Pingo, his paws scrambling at the throat of the shrew. "Take that back!"

Pingo scowled. "Never! 'Twas true!"

"Bah! Maybe a bit prissy, but at least she was educated! Your chieftain didn't even have proper grammar, just like all o' you shrews!"

Pingo gasped, though it was hard to tell for his lack of air or if he was offended. Behind them, Dedmark was slowly getting up, massaging his throat.

Pingo kicked with his legs, hitting Guggle hard in the stomach, sending the squirrel flying back, his foot paws whacking Dedmark in the face, smashing against the ferret's throat. The ferret gave a gurgle and slumped down, barely breathing.

Guggle dazed, Pingo grabbed the ferret by the neck, lifting him up. Pingo shouted, drawing his rapier, "Ye'll pay fer killin' our chieftain!"

"Yah!" Guggle leaped at the back of the ferret, pulling him away from Pingo, the shrews claws ripping the skin of his neck.

"I'll kill ye, no' the shrew!" Take that! An that!"

He had grabbed a hefty stick and was whacking the ferret's head with it. Dazed, Dedmark felt consciousness ebbing away.

"No!" shouted Pingo, his rapier drawn. He slashed it downwards, but Guggle determined to kill the ferret himself, yanked Dedmark to the side, and the rapier just slashed his arm, going most of the way through. The arm limply hanging, blood gushed out onto the grass below.

"Hah!" called Guggle, and rose the stick once more for a final blow when the ferret's head lolled over.

The combined attacks: Strangled by a rope, kicked by a squirrel, strangled and ripped by shrew claws, whacked with a hefty stick, and lost blood, the use of his arm, all the shock and pain blasted into him, killing the ferret. The shrews and squirrel stared at him, gaping.

They sighed, not sure what to say, when Durglo the dormouse came bursting in through the foliage. "Going... west... wolverine dead... own fighters... but they're not so bad... actually nice to me, let me go...free." The dormouse collapsed before he could tell them any more.

After a second, Pingo called, "You two, get a tracker from the abbey! We'll git these vermin!

oooooooooooo

The two shrews, brother and sister, Fillo and Tembri ran into the abbey gasping. Tench the otter and Abbess Fern came to greet them. "Shrews! Have you caught the wolverine and the one that killed Log a Log?"

Fillo answered, "The one that killed our chieftain, yes. And the Friar said that the wolverine is dead, killed by his own fighters. We need a tracker, us shrews don't have one at the moment."

Tench smiled. "Look no further! Are Abbess here is a champion tracker, learned from finding Dibbuns that got lost."

Fern blushed. "Hmm... well, let's go, but I'd be no use if it comes to fighting.

Tembri smiled brightly. "No matter! Come!"

oooooooooooo

The shrews and mouse, along with Tench who had decided to come with them, caught up to the shrews as they observed the body of Griv. Pingo decisively pointed his finger east. "They went this way!"

The Abbess sighed as she point at several pawprints, weapon drags, and the place where Firak swung his axe to the ground and freed Durglo. "That's east. They wen north. C'mon, follow me.

The shrews obediently followed the Abbess, who was hunched over slightly to see the tracks better.

Brushing away some leaves, she let out an, "Ouch!"

"Wot was it, mother?" asked Tench.

Fern shook her head and pulled out a string with fangs lined on it. "One of the vermin dropped this. I cut my paw on it. Ah well, least it shows we're on the right path." She tossed it aside. "Let's go!"

She took a few steps, the collapsed with a gasp, caught by Tench.

"Mother Abbess?" asked the otter. "Wot's wrong."

The mousemaid gave a shudder then went limp. Tench gasped, and shook her. "Wake up, mother! Come on!"

Tembri walked up and felt her forehead. "She's gone. Poison, I think from those fangs we found."

Tench growled. "We'll get those vermin! Let's keep heading north, they're probably following the river! We'll make them pay!"

The shrews nodded grimly.

oooooooooooo

They came to the river. Fillo was the first to point out, "A logboat's missing! They must've traveled by water!"

Tench growled. "We'll beat 'em in a water race, we know the waterways better than them! C'mon!"

Inspired by Tench's ferocity, the shrews clambered into their logboats and pulled up anchor. Pingo shouted. "Onward!"

Only three stayed back, Fillo, Tembri, and their father, a gray shrew that had once resided in Redwall, Alfio.

Alfio smiled. "You go on. We'll bring... the Abbess back. Tell the abbey where you've gone.

Tench nodded, his face sad. "Good luck and thank you. We'll take our revenge soon enough!"

**East Mossflower**

The other vermin welcomed Firak and his soldiers happily, and did not hesitate to nominate Firak leader, especially after he slew Griv.

Firak smiled. But he smiled even more when they brought him to an old ruin.

It was clearly ancient, old, and crumbled, but they could make use of it.

"And I saw a quarry when we went sailin'! We could git stone there!" called Scorpaw.

The more Firak observed it the more he enjoyed his ideas. He saw that it seemed less like a castle in fact, and more like it had been a university or abbey. His thoughts were confirmed when he toured it, and found an ancient chest in what he supposed was a gatehouse. Inside he found a parchment that said, _A History of Mossflower University._

It went over how it was founded by Temveer the Bright, then Temveer used it as a fortress, then he lost a war and it was forgotten. Firak smiled. Ever since he saw the difference between Silvertung's rule and Griv's rule, he would have loved to build a place where vermin could be educated. Maybe even goodbeasts, if they came. Firak liked the idea of living peacefully after battling the Redwallers.

He smiled. He had some big plans for this place.


	45. Chapter XLIV

**The North Mountains**

The small fox was wearing a gray woolen cloak that fit him perfectly (given to him by a shrew), and a green tunic to match his eyes. A leather pouch strapped over his shoulder held a few books. Mervo huddled in the cloak, his already-near-white fur specked with snow. His paws sunk a decimeter in the white powder. He huddled right behind his father, who also wore a gray cloak (slightly too small), and just in front of his mother, who was wearing a green cloak she carried with her at all times. Rivertunnel was in front, the brawny otter dressed in a brown cloak that matched his heavy fur.

Erzvin was the one that noticed the shrews and goats climbing the mountain after them. "They're tracking us," he had said. "I'm worried about those goats, they look ready to kill. Though, of course, they always look ready to kill. Hmmm... we're trapped up here, not sure what we'll do if they're after our blood."

Rivertunnel replied, more confident than he felt. "I'll vouch for ye, don't worry."

Still, they picked up their pace, and Mervo tired quicker. It was worse when Rivertunnel announced:

"We're out o' food. Water, too, but I suppose we could eat snow. Suppose that'll make us colder, though... We could go back an' eat one o' those crows ye injured, Erzvin– kidding, kidding. Wonder wot we'll do. I heard o' eagles an' falcons up here, the good type. Maybe we could light a fire on the top o' the mountain, an' one will come an' whisk us away..."

He waved his paw at this, fanning the visible breath he exhaled.

Zeela frowned. "Those goats are moving quickly. Looks like those hooves they have are coming in handy. And all that fur probably keeps them warm.

Rivertunnel looked down. "D'ye reckon we should wait fer 'em? I don't fancy our position."

Erzvin looked down, his eyes widening. "Judging by the look on Arro's face, I don't think so! Run!"

oooooooooooo

Disregarding the shrews, Arro and his goats had began easily scaling the mountain on all fours with their strong hooves, catching on any lift they could get. Standing on rock ledges, they leaped up the rocky face, their axes and Grippers slung over those backs.

"C'mon, me braw laddies! Hawaaaaaaaaaay! Vermin are never to be trusted!"

Urthaxe the goat stood next to him, saying, "I thought I saw a glimpse of the otter. Mebbe–?"

"Either yer no' seein' right or those vermin have him tricked proper. Let's go!"

"I saw an inscription, said an obituary to that mole–"

"Climb!"

oooooooooooo

"Go! Go! I heard them use their battlecry!" called Erzvin, running as fast as he could in the deep snow, Mervo behind him, doing the best he could to keep up.

The four travelers ran through the snow, sending the white powder everywhere, but the goats were quickly gaining on them.

Rivertunnel called, "We're almost at the top! I don't see anything to make a fire... I dunno wot we could do..."

"Just run!" urged Erzvin.

The mountain peak was only ten meters off, but the goats were only fifteen. And even still, they knew little of if they were going to find any thing useful on the peak.

Rivertunnel slipped to the back of the ranks. The foxes look concerned, but the otter gave a quick explanation. "I'd be the firs' they'd reach, an' they won't hurt me. Go on."

Mervo was gasping for breath, hardly being able to run. His father turned, looking concerned, and he quickly and untruthfully said, "I'm... fine."

But as they came close to reaching the peak and the goats came close to reaching them, he collapsed in the snow. Zeela quickly ran and felt his forehead. "Oooh... We need to keep him warm."

Erzvin didn't hesitate; he took off his cloak and covered in the young fox. He slowly began shivering, but didn't complain. Mervo was blinking and shivering, his teeth chattering. Zeela was pulling some herbs from a leather pouch.

"We can't use Ashwagandha– needs some warm water or milk. Here, just a pinch: black pepper. Warming." She pulled a pinch of something dark and put it between Mervo's fangs.

The young fox shivered, and some of his life seemed to return– his face was certainly less pale. "Thank... you, mother." He struggled and eventually got back up, leaning against the rock face, shivering. After a few seconds, Erzvin took his cloak back.

Rivertunnel ran up to them. "The goats! We're not going to make it, the rate they're running..."

Mervo frowned. "My... fault."

Erzvin shook his head. "It's these infernal– Arro!"

The big goat was standing before them, hastily blocked by Rivertunnel. He had his Grippers on, and was holding his battle-axe. "Vermin!" he shouted. "The day fer yer reckoning has cumm!"

Rivertunnel blocked him. "No! They're good!"

Arro growled, and lifted his axe up, preparing to charge. Immediately the otter threw his axe, the shaft locking with Arro's.

The goat growled. "Ye believe 'em? After they killed the mole? If yer no' fer us yer agin' us! C'mon Urthaxe!"

"HOW DARE YOU!" shrieked Zeela, the parental nature she had moments ago when caring for Mervo gone. "BUNGLE GAVE HIS LIFE, AN YOU SAY _WE _KILLED HIM! YOU SAY WE'RE VILLAINS? LOOK A YOURSELF!"

Arro roared, and swung his axe, Rivertunnel's blade clattering against the wall and the otter was swung to the side. "Call me a villain, fox? Do you?"

He raised his axe, but Rivertunnel had jumped on his back just as Urthaxe arrived, and tried to pull the otter off.

Urthaxe called, "Mebbe we should here 'em out?" He was silenced as Arro turned his head in a glare.

Just then Rivertunnel shouted on top of his lungs. The voice was louder then any could imagine, and stronger. It called, "_**MACPHEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAARSOOOOOOOOOOOME!**_"

It was so loud that Urthaxe instinctually dropped the otter as more goats came. Arro gave a yelp of pain and dropped his axe on the snow, his ears were right next to the otter's mouth.

The foxes had covered their ears without realizing. As he lowered his paws, noticing the confused look on Rivertunnel's face, he breathed one word. "Martin."

Arro then growled but did not lift his axe. Instead, he was muttering, "Macphearsome... Macphearsome..."

Then came a piercing screech, followed by another call, though not as loud. "MACPHEEEEEEEEEEEAAAARSOOOOOOOME!"

Then in flew a great, magnificent golden eagle. He cried, "Caw! Ah'm the Wild Prince Alec MacPhearsome, son o' the Wild King Bloodwing MacPhearsome! One has called fer our noble help, and we have come!"

Arro immediately raised his hooves. "Ah'm sorry! Ah didn't know they followed ye! Ah thought they were vermin!"

Landing on the peak, Prince Alec called, "Vermin? Where? Ah see! Foxes, prepare–"

"No!" called Rivertunnel. "We're good! Just... a little misunderstanding."

Alec lifted his beak. "Ah've never heard o' good vermin, otter! Ridiculous!"

Arro then held his Grippers up. "Och, 'tis mah fault. Ah thought as ye did, but the otter vouched fer them, he called ye."

Rivertunnel growled. "Vouchin' didn't convince ye before, ye horned lump. But yes, those vermin are good."

Alec did not convinced. He fluttered down to them. Glaring at the otter, he said, "Wot've ye cumm fer. Ye have no' accent!"

Rivertunnel smiled. "The fox can explain it best. The youngest."

Disbelieving, Alec turned and glared at the frightened Mervo.

"Well, wee laddie, wot have ye to say?"

Stammering, Mervo explained Arbor's scroll, into Kotir and the Abbey's fall, Arbor's ghost and the Flower's of Icetor, Hodbar, Balefur, and the mountain climb.

The golden eagle looked at him, his face unreadable, then at last he said, "Laddie, it looks like yer goin' to the court of the Wild King Bloodwing MacPhearsome!"


	46. Chapter XLV

**Sorry I haven't written anything in a _long _time. I was busy with another writing project and had little time. Unfortunately, I will not be able to post as consistently as I was with the last 44 chapters and the prologue, but I won't go away from writing as long as I did again (hopefully).**

**The Western Plains**

The Painted Ones of the West danced around the fire, there nimble feet crushing the grass that was nearly as tall as them. King Corquaz, a large, fat rat danced and laughed, moving nimbly for one his size. Drummers beat a rapid tune, and the smell of roasting fish filled the air. These were the rats that never returned to the woods after being exiled, and adapted to the benefits of living in the plains. Small huts littered the area, and a great table was always covered with food.

Perhaps it was the smell of roasting fish that brought the starving, clumsy Painted Ones of the West to the village. They crawled on all fours, except for one. Arzemath was determined not to lose the Golden One, and in his determination and through his brains he adapted to walking through the plains. Straight-backed, he marched along with some that followed his lead, the they looked more like children pretending to be in the military, while Arzemath looked the real thing.

They marched toward the bonfire, where the Western Rats danced. Slowly they began to notice the newcomers and stopped, looking at them curiously.

After a silence, King Corquaz called (in the Painted Ones' tongue), "Ah, Travelers. And, look, they wear paints as us!"

Arzemath bowed his head. "We are the Painted Ones of the East, you see."

Corquaz chuckled. "What bring you here, then?" He looked at the stumbling rats. "I notice you're used to your woods, not quite fit for plains."

"We were chasing outlaws, you see. They stole something of great value."

The fat rat chuckled again. "The Golden One, seeing as you don't have it on you? You must remember, my good brother, Cormac, you stole it from me."

Arzemath coughed. "Cormac, my father is dead. I am Arzemath, his son."

The King looked surprised. "Arzemath? Little Arzemath? Last time I saw you you were an infant, unable to walk as yon Wood Rats. Though you seem to be doing fine now. My, you look like your father." Corquaz continued, "Well, I know the Golden One was important to you all right. But, frankly, you'll be glad you don't have it. I certainly am glad my brother took it. No sacrifices, food wastes... and no consequences!"

Anger flashed Arzemath's face. "Believe what you want uncle, we need the Golden One. And... food and supplies would help."

Corquaz laughed. "Yes, yes. You can have all this my nephew. We are in the land of the plenty, after all. Eat, dance! Join us. You seem in need of food."

Arzemath's rats took to these words with glee. They filled their faces with food and danced heartily. Meanwhile, Arzemath gnawed and a small portion of fish when Corquaz tapped his shoulder.

"Nephew... Could you follow me?"

Nodding, Arzemath left his food and followed the king into his wooden hut. There was little difference from the other huts, on the outside, it was the same size and made of the same materials. However, as they say, it was the inside that matters.

Inside was a feather bed, as there was in all the huts. However, Arzemath assumed only Corquaz had, as it was a luxury only allowed to the king with the Wood rats.

What surprised him more was that on a table was a glass tank filled with dirt, a few twigs, moss, small plants, and even a little pond. In fact, it looked like a mini-jungle.

"You wasted all this glass... on a tiny forest?"

Corquaz laughed. "Look closer."

The wood rat peeked into the terrarium and was surprised to see it was filled with small, black insects running around, carting a bit of fruit to a hole in the dirt.

"Ants?" asked the rat king, confused.

Corquaz chuckled. "Yes. Black Crazy Ants, to be specific."

"What... why?"

He shrugged. "One day I looked at a bunch of ants scurrying around in the dirt. They all worked together so well... quite interesting, really. I spent the next few seasons studying them, how their system worked. One day I caught a queen. And from her came this colony."

Arzemath was even more confused. "I don't understand."

Corquaz explained. "You see, I found all the ants are born from an ant queen, she lays their eggs. I caught her and eventually she raised a few workers, which I cared for, feeding them. I made this Terrarium based off their habitat, and observed, learning masses of information. They've truly helped my soldiers grow to the strength they are now."

Arzemath was completely bewildered. "What on Earth do you mean?"

"Watch," said the jolly king.

Sighing, the wood rat watched as the ants crawled across the terrarium. Hundreds came from small holes in the ground toward the strawberries lying near the small river, which had four fish swimming in it. The ants drunk from the fruit, or they ripped off small bits to cart to the nest. They all worked flawlessly in perfect harmony, Arzemath was mesmerized by the site. For the first time ever, he felt completely at peace.

Then he shook his head. Regaining his posture, he looked at Corquaz. "I don't see why you keep them."

Corquaz remained silent, until something caught Arzemath's eye. The wood rat saw that tunnels webbed the side of the glass, and crawling through them were thousands of ants, working tirelessly. They carried the food and fed it to other ants that had not left the nest, to brood filling chambers. There were even a few ants that were much larger than the rest, in the deepest parts of the soil.

Corquaz spoke what Arzemath thought. "Watch as they work together, helping everyone to ensure success. They are all treated equally. See the queens (this is a type of species that has multiple queens)? They rule the colony, but they don't treat their subjects unfairly. I have learned to rule the right way from them. Everything is shared, and everyone benefits.

"This is better than your way. You have all your soldiers pandering to you, you're unable to progress forward. Settle down, nephew, and treat your soldiers as equals, not in-subordinates. Stop holding grudges, and forget sacrificing your rats."

Arzemath gaped, watching the ants tend carefully to the fellow ants, how they helped each other to flourish. His shoulders relaxed, and just as he was about to nod his head, memories shot through his mind.

The look of disappointment on his father's face whenever he messed up. The joy the rats had when they worshiped the Golden One. How easy it was to have servants ready to do your every whim. If he said agreed with Corquaz, his parents would look from wherever he was with such disappointment. He could not agree.

"No, uncle. I rule my way. And I will get the Golden One."

Corquaz sighed. "Then... You are lost." He plopped onto his bed. "You may return to outside."

Arzemath nodded and left the hut, his eyes hard and determined.


	47. Chapter XLVI

**Hope the last chapter was okay. I haven't really written that many peaceful chapters so far, so it kind of is a black sheep in the Dark Empire. Really the point of it was to develop Arzemath, and also set up some future scenes.**

**MacPhearsome Mountain, Central of the Eagle Kingdom.**

The journey took days down the mountain, then, following Alec, they climbed the greatest mountain of all. Thankfully the eagles brought food and supplies, but by the time they arrived at the great gates into the mountain, they were frigid, and had lost two shrews to the snow. Log-a-Log was acting as if everything was peachy, while Arro continued to torment the foxes. They were all glad to finally see the iron gates to MacPhearsome Mountain, Haven of the Eagles.

Alec unlocked the gates and they creaked open, revealing the inside of the mountain.

It was filled with a warmth and splendor none of the travelers had experienced in such a long time. It was completely hollow, with torches lining the sides. They were on a ledge that was similar to the hundreds of others decorating the mountain, each of which had a nest atop it.

Mervo gazed in wonder, the cloak falling off his shoulders. "How... How did you build this?"

Alec answered, "Ye've already met mah answer have ye not? Our loyal allies, the moles from Hodbar!"

Erzvin chuckled, "Those moles with the funny accents? Well, if anybeast could build this, it would be them. But... how are we supposed to get to your father's court."

After a pause, Alec replied, "Mah brother. Lucror! Help these flightless ones! Just like ye, haha!"

After a few seconds, they heard a whirring then saw an incredibly strange sight.

There was a golden eagle hanging by his talons from a rope attached to the roof, which was sliding down towards them, as if on a zipline. He was somewhat runty for an eagle, but the first thing they noticed was his right wing. It was torn in half, as if it was lost in a battle. He came down on the ledge they were on, flipping over to get off next to Alec.

"Ah heard yer plea for help, brother. What would ye like me tae do for ye?"

Alec frowned. "Ah don't need your help, and don't start thinking ah will. Yeh need to transport these travelers to father. They need to see him." With that, the eagle took off, flying around the hollow mountain."

Lucror chuckled. Turning to the travelers, he said, "Ah don't suppose yeh'll tell me why you're here. And foxes, no less. Strange, strange!"

Erzvin smiled. "Please, sir. We've come in search of the Flowers of Icetor. Don't worry- we are not like most foxes."

Lucror smiled. "Ah'm not worried. Ah'm an eagle that can't fly, ah'm in no position to judge. Come, I'll show yeh-"

Brus held up a paw. "Me and mah shrews are in no hurry to meet King MacPhearsome. All we ask for is a warm place and food tae eat."

Arro nodded. "Agreed. Ah think King MacPhearsome won't take too kindly as with our... last visit."

Lucror nodded. "Yes... Laird Graytalon is still recovering. Arro, you can show the shrews how to get to the food area once ah tell the foxes and the otter how to get too mah father. Otter... yeh can go first."

Lucror flipped open a compartment on the side of the wall, and began pressing several buttons, muttering things like, "Location: Throne ledge."

Lucror instructed Rivertunnel to hang on to the handles the eagle was hanging from earlier. Then the handles started like up the rope with a _tik-tik-tik _sound.

Meanwhile, Arro got the shrews onto another pair of handles and ropes, which zipped down much faster, with the assistance of gravity. The goats themselves could not use these, as they were two heavy, but instead nimbly jumped down the side of the mountain with their nimble hooves.

Mervo began feeling nervous. What if he fell? He never had much of a head for heights. He noticed his mother looked a little nervous as well. He remembered she had Acrophobia even worse than he did.

Lucror smiled as Rivertunnel was pulled up. "With a bit of wiring, gears, rope and a handlebar, it's incredible the things yeh can do. Would yeh like meh to explain it tae yeh?"

Mervo and Zeela eagerly nodded. Not only were they on the lookout for knowledge, but it was a great way to take their minds off things. They found Lucror's explanation fascinating.

Rivertunnel was pulled to one ledge that was much larger than the rest. They couldn't see what was happening up there, but Rivertunnel sent it back down. Then Erzvin caught, and was pulled the same way. Zeela proceeded to it nervously, and spent the way up with her eyes closed, whispering, sometimes even letting out a few squeaks of fear.

And then it was Mervo's turn to go. He proceeded to the handles, his paws shaking. Kicking off the ledge with his small paws, he zoomed upwards. His paws slipping and shaking, he was pulled upwards, fighting the laws of physics that would later be discover by a ferret called Isaac Newton.

And then... it was over. He fell onto a rocky ledge and stumbled, landing on the floor, feeling sick.

Erzvin grabbed his paw and helped him up. Alec landed behind them and held up his wing, pointing to the back of the ledge, which caved deep into the mountain.

"Foxes, ah'd like yeh to meet mah father, The Great King Bloodwing MacPhearsome!"

Sitting in a silver thrown, shadowed by darkness, King Bloodwing rose, a Massive Eagle bigger than even the largest of goats.

He looked upon his subjects with his keen eyes, catching individual hairs, the fear Mervo's eyes, the forced courage in Rivertunnel. Then, he looked upon his son.

"Throw 'em all off the ledge."


End file.
